Harry Potter and the Book of Karsis
by kyokki
Summary: Post OotP. Harry deals with the problems and adventures of a new year, including a trip to America, yet another new DADA teacher, and NEWT level Potions. PG for some language. Please Review.
1. Chapter One: Dream Catcher

I own nothing related Harry Potter. Pity really. The only things I own are Tala, and the story.   
  
Chapter 1: Dream Catcher  
  
It was a dull, gray summer day on Privet Drive. And it also happened to be Harry's sixteenth birthday. He was sitting in Mrs. Figg's cat-smelling parlor, sharing with her and what appeared to be a middle aged man with a buzz-cut, a cake that had been sent to him by Mrs. Weasley.   
  
"She's such a good cook." Mrs. Figg sighed, feeding a small piece to one of her cats. "My cakes always taste like they've been in the refrigerator for a year."   
  
"Now, now, Bella. You're a fine cook." The man said, patting her arm.  
  
"That's nice of you to say, Tonks. My cats don't complain and that's all I worry about." She patted the head of the large, striped tabby on her lap. Tonks giggled, a surprisingly girlish giggle from such a masculine looking man.   
  
"Stop that, it gives me the willies." Mrs. Figg shuddered. "It's bad enough that you come here looking like that in the first place."  
  
"You don't like it?" Tonks asked playfully, running a hand over her bristly scalp. "I wore it just for you, you know. Then your neighbors can just think you have a gentleman caller."  
  
Arabella Figg turned bright red, and Harry fought not to choke over laughing with cake in his mouth. She looked relieved when someone knocked on the door and she was able to escape the snickering duo.   
  
As he helped himself to another piece of cake, Harry ruminated over how different this summer had been from the ones in the previous five years. He was able to keep in constant touch with the others in the wizarding world, and they let him know, as much as was safe, what was happening. And for the first time, he thought as he took a swig of cool milk to wash down his cake, he was almost having an actual birthday party. The closest he had had before was when he was eleven and Hagrid had come to collect him and take him to London.   
  
"Sorry I'm late," Harry heard a light, pleasant voice say behind him and he turned to see Professor Lupin enter the room, removing his cloak. In his free hand he carried a small box. A moment later a woman that Harry did not recognize entered. She was followed by Mrs. Figg, who looked non-plussed to have so many guests at once. "Happy birthday, Harry," He said as Harry stood and took his hand. The witch behind him looked at Harry a bit shyly.   
  
She was a fairly tall woman, with long dark brown hair falling down her back and coppery colored skin. Her high cheek-boned face was not exactly pretty, with a strong nose and tilted brilliantly green eyes, but attractive in its own way. Lupin noticed his scrutiny and stepped aside so he could introduce them. "Harry, this is Tala Snowfoot. She's...well..."  
  
"I'm his girlfriend." She said suddenly. She stepped forward and took Harry's hands in her own. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Harry. Remus has told me so much about you."   
  
Lupin looked a little out of sorts. He coughed uncomfortably as Harry gave him an incredulous look. "I met Tala during the holidays, and well, she was visiting from North America."   
  
"And after I met Remus, I decided to stay." She finished, still looking a little shy. She moved to take Lupin's arm. "I can't visit long, though. That's why we're late. I wasn't sure if I would be able to come at all." She looked past Harry and smiled. "Hi Tonks." They had obviously met before.  
  
"Wotcher, Tala." Tonks grinned back.  
  
"She wanted to meet you, Harry." Lupin supplied. He glanced at the coppery-skinned woman, and she nodded, releasing his arm.   
  
"I have to go now, I can't leave her for long. Happy birthday Harry." She said, and with a crack she dissapparated.   
  
"Leave who for long?" Harry asked curiously.   
  
"A woman, someone who I knew from school. She's staying at my house for a while." Remus said, not quite meeting Harry's eyes. The box in his hands gave a little twitch and he looked down, seemingly relieved. "Here, Harry. The two of us got this for your birthday." He handed Harry, who was stammering his thanks, the box, and moved to sit at the table, watching raptly.   
  
The box proved to have two parts, one of which was a book, wrapped in plain paper. Harry set that aside for a moment, for the box had given another interesting twitch.   
  
"Open it, Harry." Tonks urged, leaning forward eagerly.   
  
He cautiously lifted the lid and peered in to see enormous golden eyes that glowed at him from within. "What...?" He pulled the lid off the rest of the way to reveal a small creature that looked like a cross between an owl and a koala. It was also bright violet in color. It chittered in interest as it looked up in Harry, its wings fluttering, then suddenly it jumped out of the box and skittered up Harry's arm, turning dark blue as it settled on his shoulder, its little paws curled around his neck. Harry twisted his head to look down on it in astonishment. "What...what is it?" He asked in a hushed voice.   
  
"It's a chronogryffon." Lupin said, as Tonks and Mrs. Figg peered at it in fascination, cooing. It chittered at them and its color shifted to bright blue. It seemed to enjoy the attention, but didn't want to let go of Harry to enjoy their caresses.  
  
"It's so cute." Tonks breathed.   
  
Lupin continued. "They're creatures that change color according to their moods. They're great pets, intelligent and intensely loyal, they are also fiercely protective of their owners. The book," He gestured towards the thin package lying on the table. "Will tell you what colors coincide to what moods. I can tell you a few of the more common ones. Blue, is happiness, red is anger, yellow is fear, and black is when it senses intense danger to its owner."  
  
Harry looked at the furry little creature hugging his neck, and smiled. It looked up at him and almost seemed to smile back, the blue color intensifying. "It seems he likes you, Harry." Lupin grinned.   
  
"What's his name?" Harry asked, cautiously patting the furry little creature, amazed at how soft his fur was.  
  
"That's up to you, Harry. But he'll only answer to the name you give him." He leaned back in his chair, thanking Mrs. Figg as she placed a plate of cake and a glass of milk before him. "He's very young, a pup really, but chronos mature slowly. In about fifty years he'll reach full size and weigh about thirty pounds."   
  
The little creature was purring and Harry found the sound comforting. "Thank you Professor." He said with feeling. "He's great." He thought for a moment, "I remember reading a name somewhere, I think it was in 'History of Magic.' What do you think of the name Durriken?" He asked Lupin.  
  
"Ask the little fellow." Lupin smiled.   
  
"Do you want to be called Durriken?" Harry good-humoredly asked the little creature. It squeaked, and flashed like a rainbow for a second before settling into a bright blue. "I'm thinking that that is a yes." He grinned. "Will he respond to Durry, too?"   
  
Lupin smiled from where he was finishing his cake. "Fink so." He muttered around a mouthful.   
  
"Professor," Harry started, then paused. Lupin looked at him questioningly. "Is...is it..." He stumbled to a halt, "Where did you meet Tala?" He finished lamely.   
  
Lupin wiped his mouth on his napkin, looking about at the interested faces. "Well, I ran into her one day, literally. And we had lunch."  
  
"Er...is she a werewolf too?" Lupin shook his head negatively. "Does she know?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes," Lupin raised his eyebrows, his face mild. "She knew even before we met. She's a researcher in werewolf studies." His eyes blazed with something Harry didn't quite recognize. "An amazing woman, really. Marvelous at potion brewing, have to be in her line of work."   
  
"Sounds serious." Tonks remarked cheerfully.  
  
"Yes, yes it is." Lupin said, blushing faintly.   
  
Harry tried to see if Durry liked chocolate cake. "Professor," He said finally. "Is it safe?" He asked, avoiding Lupin's gaze.  
  
"She says it is, and she should know. I guess I still haven't outgrown taking risks, but we're taking them together." Lupin looked mildly embarrassed at this line of discussion.   
  
"Oh, Harry..." He said off-handedly, and Harry looked up from where Durry was licking chocolate off his round black nose. "Want to visit America for a couple of weeks before the holidays end? We're going to visit Tala's parents and take some important information to the American Session. I asked Dumbledore, and he said it would be all right if we took you, Ron and Hermione. Moody will be coming too, doesn't want you traipsing around a foreign country without his security." Lupin grimaced good-naturedly as Tonks giggled.   
  
"When do we leave?" Harry asked eagerly, as Durry settled on top of his head, purring sleepily.   
  
"How does tomorrow night sound?"  
  
"Wonderful." Harry breathed, the sooner he could leave the Dursley's house the better.  
  
Harry persuaded Durry to get back into his box as he left Mrs. Figg's house, and he walked to the Dursley's trying hard not to joggle it. Durry was squeaking softly, obviously wanting to be allowed back out and Harry tried to soothe him, thinking the quieter they could get into the house and up to his room the better. Unfortunately he had no such luck. Uncle Vernon was waiting for him as he walked in the door, bellowing something about owls and cats and Harry couldn't understand a word of it. The box in his hands jumped as Vernon told Harry off, and that set him onto something else.   
  
"And what the DEVIL is THAT?!" He yelled, his face turning purple.  
  
"It's a birthday present." Harry said calmly. He didn't let Uncle Vernon bother him any more. He knew that if he was punished unfairly, and he was quite sure Uncle Vernon knew it too, then a whole bunch of his friends in the wizarding world would swoop down to make sure it didn't happen again. And that, Harry knew, was something his Uncle would want to avoid more than the plague. The box jiggled again. "I don't think he likes you yelling, Uncle Vernon."   
  
Uncle Vernon backed away a few steps before he could help himself. "You better, you better keep it under control, boy." He said harshly, probably expecting that the box contained a giant cobra, though it was far too small, or something of the sort. Harry knew that even if his Uncle saw how unavoidably cute it was he would treat it like a venomous snake.   
  
"Don't worry, Uncle. I think he will be alright, just doesn't like loud noises." Harry grinned as his Uncle turned pale. "Oh, by the way," He said as he moved up the stairs, his Uncle backing into the wall to give the box in Harry's hands a wide berth, "I'll be leaving for the Americas tomorrow."  
  
"And why should I let you -- ?!," Uncle Vernon said, staring at the box as it gave another little quiver, obviously considering that Harry's plane might crash or his boat sink in the middle of the Pacific ocean, taking his new pet with him.   
  
"A couple of wizards will be coming to pick me up tomorrow," Harry said quietly, "I believe you've met them before." Then he moved up the stairs, ignoring the way his Uncle's mouth was opening and closing like that of a large fish behind him.  
  
Finally he heard Uncle Vernon's voice echoing up the stairs. "I don't expect to see you again until after the holidays and don't expect us to see you off either."  
  
"I wasn't." Harry murmured, closing the door behind him. Hedwig was waiting for him, hooting softly, as he entered. A letter lay near her feet. "Hey, Hedwig." He placed the box on the bed and lay the book beside it. "This is Durry," He said, lifting off the lid and watching as the little chronogryffon soared out and circled the room, he was a pale purple at the moment. Hedwig watched with her head tilted to the side. Finally Durry seemed to notice her and he landed, a bit ungainly, before her, stepping forward cautiously. She looked down at the little creature regally. Finally she hooted softly and Durry brightened to a sky blue, squeaking at her. Harry watched this with much interest, curious about how the two of them would get along. Apparently Hedwig thought she had been greeted with the proper deference, for she nibbled one of Durry's ears gently, causing the little creature to chitter contentedly.   
  
Harry, content that the two of them were getting along, sat down and opened the book. As the cover opened a small piece of parchment fell out,   
  
Dear Harry,  
  
As I know I would not have told you this in person, I'm including this note to let you know that your new pet is not just from Tala and I, but was procured by Sirius last spring before he had even hatched. So please consider this a present from the three of us.  
  
Regards,  
  
Remus  
  
Harry let the note fall into his lap, and he watched Durry soar around the room, as graceful in flight as he was ungainly on the ground. His vision was strangely blurred, and he reached up a hand to wipe at his eyes, amazed to find tears there. That Sirius had been thinking of his next birthday so long before...   
  
How he missed his godfather, the one he had regarded as a father and a brother, even though he had only known of his existence for a short while before he lost him. Often he dreamed of Sirius, falling backwards, slowly, behind the veil. He always woke from those dreams shuddering, with his face damp.  
  
Durry flew down and landed lightly on his shoulder, his color flushed with pale rose. He put his tiny arms around Harry's neck, touching his jaw with his cold nose, before settling down and purring his way to sleep. Harry stroked Durry's back gently as he picked up the book, titled 'Chronogryffons: You and your Lifelong companion.'  
  
"Thank you Sirius." Harry murmured as he settled back to read, listening to Hedwig settling down with her head beneath her wing and Durry breathing on his shoulder.   
  
The next morning Harry began to pack, piling his books and his robes into his trunk along with all the rest of his school things. Durry hopped around the room, chittering excitedly. The night before, he had learned that chronogryffons were very sensitive to their master's emotion, and apparently his excitement was rubbing off on his new pet. Hedwig watched this impassively, settled on the windowsill. Though as Harry passed she hooted at him, scuffling over to reveal the letter he had forgotten about from the night before. It was his Hogwarts letter, and looked a bit thicker than usual. He looked fondly at the familiar green ink and broke the seal, revealing his new book list, and the results of his O.W.L. examinations. He looked at the list with excitement and some trepidation. This was it. Whatever the results of his exams would determine whether or not he could become an Auror.   
  
He slowly read it out-loud, as though this would make the results real.   
  
"Practical Examination results: Care of Magical Creatures, Outstanding. Divination," He grimaced. "Poor." Harry considered that acceptable, since he hadn't even finished the exam, nor the following one. "Astronomy, Poor." He had been hoping that they had made an exception, considering the circumstances surrounding the exam. Unfortunately, as he now saw, they hadn't. "Transfiguration, Outstanding." That was particularly in thanks to Professor McGonagall's intensive help, and her vow to see him become an Auror. "Charms, Outstanding. Defense against the Dark Arts, Outstanding." He grinned, even though he had expected that one. "Herbology, Exceeds Expectations." And finally, Potions. He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to look, but he knew he had to. One eye opened a crack, and found the result. "I don't believe it," He muttered. "Potions, Exceeds Expectations." He was elated for one moment, then his face fell. He recalled that Professor McGonagall had told him Snape didn't accept any students who didn't receive an Outstanding on their Potions exams. He looked down, seeing his dream of becoming an Auror slipping away from him.   
  
A moment later he sighed and read the rest of the list. "Written Examinations: Care of Magical Creatures, Outstanding; Astronomy, Acceptable; Transfiguration, Exceeds Expectations; Charms, Outstanding; Defense Against the Dark Arts; Outstanding." He had been expecting that one, but seeing it in writing still gave him a warm flush. "Herbology, Exceeds Expectations; Potions, Outstanding." Well that was something. He supposed that thirteen OWLs was nothing to sneeze at.  
  
As night fell Harry sat at his window looking out at the rapidly appearing stars. He watched as a particularly bright one appeared and recognized it from his studies in Astronomy. It was Sirius, the dog star. Unbidden, tears started in his eyes and his chest felt so tight that he was sure if he tried to breath he would explode. He needed to get out of the house. He took his wand and stuck it inside his t-shirt then left the room, walking past the Dursleys, who were sitting in the living room ignoring him. Well, almost ignoring him. "You had better hope those friends of yours come here looking normal." Uncle Vernon called after him as he stomped his way out the door. Once outside he stood on the lawn and looked up, closing his eyes and letting the cool breeze dry his face.   
  
Sometimes on nights like these, he could feel the emptiness like a black hole in his soul. For a short, blissful while it was almost as though he had had a family. Someone who he could talk to and who would actually listen. Someone he loved like he could never love the Dursleys. And in one moment that had been taken from him. He had lost Sirius.  
  
His shoulders slumped as though the heavy load he bore was a tangible thing. He had never asked for the responsibility that he had been given before he was even born. But now he knew, he must not shirk it, no matter how hard or terrible the task may be. He had decided, in the silence of his room, looking at a copy of the order picture that Moody had sent him, looking at those smiling faces, most of which had lost their lives, that he would not fail. He couldn't. And if he were to die he would do his best to take Voldemort down with him. He did not want anyone, in another decade or two, to have to look at a picture like the one he held, and to know the grief that he felt. He felt in his pocket for the picture, smiling most grimly. He kept it with him as a reminder.   
  
He was sitting on the garden bench, his elbows on his knees, when they started arriving. The first was Lupin, he walked up and clasped Harry on the shoulder before sitting next to him. "The rest will be coming shortly." He said quietly. Then he, too, lapsed into silence. Harry glanced at him surreptitiously, wondering what his former Professor was thinking. Sirius had been Lupin's and Harry's father's best friend from school. He knew that Lupin had loved him as least as much as Harry had, having been like a brother to the animagus. Harry knew he wasn't the only one suffering from the loss of Sirius, but Lupin didn't also carry the guilt that Harry felt. Harry was glad that Lupin didn't feel the need to fill the silence with words.   
  
The next to arrive was Moody, towing behind him Hermione, Ron, and, surprisingly, Ginny. They smiled nervously at Harry as he and Lupin stood up to greet them. "I'll go up and help you grab your things then, Harry?" Ron asked.   
  
"Sure, come on." He said, grabbing his best friend's shoulder in a friendly clasp before heading inside. They moved past the suddenly still living room, where the Dursleys froze as though small rodents in the presence of a large hawk.   
  
"I had to resist the urge to say 'Boo!'" Ron whispered to Harry as they moved up the stairs. Harry chuckled.   
  
He and Ron heaved the trunk downstairs before Harry returned for Hedwig and the small box containing Durry. "What's that?" Ron asked curiously.   
  
"New pet." Harry grinned. "Professor Lupin and his girlfriend gave him to me for my birthday." He still didn't feel up to discussing his godfather.   
  
"Lupin has a girlfriend?" Ron whispered, as they passed the living room. Harry nodded. "Weird." Ron looked positively stunned. "I guess I never thought of Professors having girlfriends, but then I never thought of werewolves having girlfriends either." The couch twitched at the sound of the word werewolf uttered in the sleepy normality of Privet Drive. "Can I have a look?" He asked eagerly. They were now on the front lawn.   
  
"Er." Harry said, "This may not be a good place."  
  
"No worries." Ron said, still looking eagerly at the box, "We're leaving from Mrs. Figg's house. You can show me there?"  
  
"Sure." Harry said.   
  
They gathered Harry's things and Lupin bewitched Harry's trunk so it was easier to carry. Then they moved off down the street, where they were met by Mrs. Figg, clutching her carpetbag and with a cat winding around her ankles. "Hi again Harry," She smiled. As they moved inside, Harry wondered how they were going to get to wherever they were going. He gulped at the thought of the Knight Bus. And he knew he wasn't yet old enough to Apparate. And his broom, as far as he knew, was still chained up in one of Snape's dungeons. The broom that Sirius had given to him. His hands tightened on the box, and he heard Durry give a little chirp.   
  
They entered the kitchen and Harry saw a most welcome sight. It was his Firebolt, he would have recognized it anywhere. He set Durry's box on the table and rushed over to it with an exclamation, taking it in his hands and examining it. It looked none the worse for wear for being locked up for several months. "Dumbledore liberated it from the dungeons," Ron supplied. Ron, Lupin and Ginny grinned at him understandingly, but Hermione was more intrigued by the small box than by Harry's attention to his long missed broom.   
  
"What's this Harry?" She asked. Harry turned at looked at her, his hands still clutching his beloved broom. He blinked, she looked different, older, more mature. He hadn't noticed before.   
  
"Yeah Harry, what is it?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her hair was longer, he thought. He wondered if she was still going out with Dean.   
  
He glanced between the two of them, then smiled, "Go ahead and open it."   
  
"It's not something dangerous, is it?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head. And, satisfied, she turned and peeled back the lid to reveal the little chronogryffon. "It's so...CUTE!" She almost squealed.   
  
"His name's Durriken." Harry supplied.   
  
"Is it a chronogryffon?" Hermoine asked, her own eyes sparkling as she moved forward to pet the little creature's head.   
  
"Indeed, it is." Lupin remarked, smiling at her, "What can you tell me about them?" He asked, much as he used to when he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
"Well," She thought for a moment. "They're very rare and they're color-shifters. Their colors change according to their moods, and sometimes according to the moods of their owners. They are extremely loyal, and can be protective. Oh, and one more thing. They're sometimes called Dream Catchers because they help guard their owners from bad dreams. " She stated. Harry looked over at the little creature, he had known of the dual purpose that Lupin and Sirius had intended in giving him Durry when he had read that in his book on chronogryffons the night before.  
  
"Very good, ten points Gryffindor." Lupin laughed.   
  
"Now that we've finished cooing over broomsticks and small furry creatures," Moody rumbled suddenly, "We really need to be on our way. Harry, you remember the drill from last time. Only this time we're going to have to be more careful because we don't have quite as big an escort as I would like." He frowned over that ferociously. "We will be first going to Remus' house to pick up the last one in our party. Then," He pulled a map out of one of his pockets and smoothed it on the table. His large gnarled finger traced a route, "We will be going to a wizarding port on the coast, where we will catch out ship." Harry had been wondering how they were going to get across the ocean. "Ready! Let's go!" He bellowed, shoving the map back in his coat and grabbing his broom.   
  
"See you, Arabella!" Lupin called as they secured Harry's trunk to his broom and Harry attached Durry's box to his Firebolt and they kicked off. Harry looked back once as they zoomed off and he thought he saw a small blonde woman standing next to Mrs. Figg. A moment later the two of them had disappeared. She had had, Harry thought, as they rose above the clouds, heading off to their next destination, the saddest face that he had ever seen. He was unable to ask about her, though, or why no one had told him she was there.   
  
Lupin's house was a small brick cottage in the English countryside. They touched down on his lawn as the first rays of sunlight touched the horizon. "Right." Moody called. "We'll be staying here until tomorrow night, then, after a stop at Diagon Alley to pick up some supplies, we're heading off."   
  
Professor Lupin escorted them around to his front door, where Tala was waiting. "Hi dear," She said, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Then she hugged Harry and, surprisingly, Moody, who flushed lightly on his scarred face as she kissed his cheek. Lupin slung his arm around her shoulders as he turned to introduce the rest of them. "Tala, this is Ronald Weasley, and his sister Ginny."   
  
"Arthur and Molly's children." She said warmly, as she shook their hands, "Or at least two of them."  
  
"And this is Hermione Granger." Lupin continued. "Top student at Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione blushed at the compliment as she also shook Tala's hand. "Pleased to meet you." She murmured.   
  
"Why don't you all come inside and have a bit of breakfast. Then you may want to catch some sleep, we'll have a long journey night after this." Lupin said and he led them indoors.   
  
The cottage was somewhat larger on the inside than it was from without, but it still had a homey, cozy feel to it. Tala settled them all down along a well worn oak table that had been polished to a honey glow and busied herself with serving breakfast. Between mouthfuls, Harry looked around the house. It was filled with furniture that, like Lupin's robes, was somewhat shabby but well cared for. As in all the wizard houses he had been in so far, this one had its share of odd accoutrements, including a clock that had no numbers, but instead showed the phases of the moon. Harry supposed that was useful in the home of a werewolf. He saw stairs leading up to a second floor, but he would have sworn, when he had seen the house from the outside, that it was only one story. Harry turned back from his examination to find that his plate was empty and he had to stifle a yawn as the rest of them were finishing up. When they were all full and content, Tala shooed the younger ones out of the kitchen, telling them that their rooms were at the top of the stairs in case they were tired.   
  
"Oh, and if you go outside y'all would do better to stay clear of the woods." This was said with a glance at Remus, and they understood immediately. The young witches and wizards exchanged glances.  
  
"Okay, Tala." Hermione agreed for them. And the tall, coppery witch left with a final smile, assumedly to return to the kitchen and talks they could not yet be privy to. With that, their tiredness aside, they set off to do a bit of exploring, making sure their wands were kept close at hand. Durry perched on Harry's shoulder as they walked.  
  
"Professor Lupin lives in a nice house." Ginny commented as they walked a short way into the gardens. They were a strange mixture of rigid flowerbeds and wild tangles with, incongruously, a cactus here and there. Suspended from the large branches of a great oak in what seemed to be the center, was a large swing, long enough to accommodate all of them provided they didn't mind a bit of a squeeze. They didn't and soon the four of them were rocking gently in the crisply scented breeze. The combination of the wind and the gentle movement soon set all four of them off to sleep.   
  
Harry at first didn't realize that he had, in fact, succumbed to slumber. He was still on the swing, but now he was alone. For a moment he thought that they had gone off and left him to his nap, but then the surrealism of a dream presented itself in the form of a large black dog sitting in the midst of a patch of violent red flowers.   
  
"Sirius?" Harry whispered, though he knew that it couldn't be. The sky darkened above him, and he saw the dog roll his eyes to the sky. There the moon hung heavy and silver among rushing pewter clouds. Harry looked back down and saw that it was indeed his godfather, standing there in his human form, looking young and healthy, both in fact, more so than Harry ever remembered him being. And behind him, there was now a doorway, ancient stone, containing a rippling veil. It looked doubly strange, standing there unsupported in the midst of a patch of bright flowers.  
  
"Sirius!" Harry cried, standing and starting to run towards the tall, black haired man. He stopped when Sirius held up a hand, grinning his broad grin. And at last he spoke.  
  
"You must do what she cannot." He said, and his eyes looked over Harry's shoulder and there was an expression that Harry couldn't quite decipher in them. Harry turned, and behind him he saw a small blond woman, beckoning to his godfather. She was swathed in gray and seemed to be hiding something beneath a fold of her robes. Her face was the saddest that Harry had ever seen.  
  
"What do you mean, Sirius?" Harry said, turning around, but his godfather was gone, leaving only the thinly rippling veil in the windless air. "No!" Harry yelled.   
  
"I'll see you again." Came a hushed murmur from behind the veil, "We'll wait for you."   
  
"Sirius, come back, come back!"   
  
"Harry. Harry?" Someone said softly, and he jerked back from the depths of slumber. He was aware of someone's hand stroking his messy hair back from his forehead, someone pressing against his side. His eyes flew open and met the warm brown ones belonging to Ginny. It was she pressing against him. He looked past her and saw Hermione and Ron still sleeping, Hermione's head lolling onto Ron's shoulder.   
  
"Are you all right, Harry?" She asked quietly. "It seemed like you were having a bad dream."   
  
"No," He said. "I'm fine." He looked away from her, uneasy over how deep her eyes were. There he saw Durry, perched on a low branch and watching him intently. The little creature spun through several different colors before settling on gray.  
  
'Gray' Harry wondered, 'What exactly did that color, or lack of, mean?'   
  
"Harry," His attention was drawn back to the red-head crushed in next to him. "Maybe we should wake the others and go inside." She seemed really concerned about him, and he wondered if he had said anything while he was sleeping. "It's alright, Harry." Ginny said as though she could read his thoughts. "I know you miss him terribly. I do too, he was a great friend and a great person."  
  
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to talk about this right now, so he only nodded and stood up. The swing jogged as he did so. Ron snorted sleepily and opened his eyes.  
  
"What?" He asked, confused. He looked down at Hermione's head on his shoulder and blushed as red as his hair. He looked astounded, but also rather pleased.  
  
"Why don't you wake up Hermione, Ron? We're going to head back." Ginny suggested.  
  
Ron stared at her, then back at Hermione, who snuggled closer to him. "You know..." He cleared his throat. "I think that we will...er...just stay here for a while. Be a shame to wake her up, right?" He looked pleadingly at Harry, who had to stifle a laugh behind his hand.   
  
"Yeah, I think you're right, Ron." He agreed. "C'mon Ginny, let's go see if we can overhear something."  
  
She shot a smile a him, a very lovely smile, he thought, and he nervously reached a hand up to helplessly smooth his untamable hair. "Sure," She said, and they walked down across the garden paths, shooting glances back over their shoulders occasionally, then breaking into laughter when they caught each other's eyes.   
  
"I hope there is a POSITIVE reaction from her when she does wake up." Ginny commented through her chuckles.   
  
"With the two of them, you never know."   
  
Thus ends Chapter one. Please, please, please Read and Review. 


	2. Chapter Two: Full Moon

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its affiliations belong, not to me, but to J.K. Rowling. So as much as I would like to take the credit for such genius...well...you know. I only own the story and my original characters.  
  
Chapter 2: Full Moon  
  
"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Lupin asked. Harry jerked a finger over his shoulder, indicating the garden. He saw Moody's eye twist in that direction, apparently looking through the door, and the old Auror grunted.   
  
Tala, not having the advantage of a magical eye, looked out the window. Upon seeing the scene that Harry and Ginny had left, she said, "That's sweet." With an odd little smile. The rest of them were sitting around the kitchen table, having tea and discussing that which was safe to discuss. Tala was sitting next to Lupin, who was looking pale.   
  
"Why are we going to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" Ginny asked, trying to change the subject before she dissolved once again into giggles.   
  
"You need your new supplies, don't you?" Moody said bluntly. "Didn't forget your book lists?"  
  
"No," Harry said. "I think I may, actually...." He rummaged in one of his pockets, finally producing a somewhat crumpled Hogwarts letter. "Yeah, here it is." He looked over it, scowling slightly as he read his booklist. "Wait, this can't be right."  
  
"What is it?" Lupin asked curiously.  
  
"I have books listed here for NEWT level Potions. But I only got an Exceeds Expectations in the practical examination, and Professor McGonagall told me Snape doesn't accept anyone who gets below an Outstanding." He said, scratching his head.   
  
"May I?" Lupin said, and Harry handed over the parchment. His former DADA professor looked over them, his lined brow furrowing. "Not a bad turnout on your OWLs Harry." He commented. "The enclosed note says you are looking to become an Auror?"  
  
"Well, yeah." Harry shrugged.  
  
Moody and Lupin exchanged looks. "It's a noble profession." Lupin said finally. "And I think you have the makings of a good one." Moody grunted in what may have been agreement.  
  
"Thanks Professor." Harry said, flushing at the looks of admiration from Tala and Ginny. "I figure if I live, I can..." He trailed off at the looks on their faces. "I mean..." He looked around desperately, then stood up abruptly. "Excuse me." He fled up the stairs.  
  
He collapsed facedown on the bed of the first room he came to, covering his head with his arms. He couldn't believe he just said that. Sure, he could think it in the dark corners of his mind; those shadows where he turned over and over again the fact that in order to bring an end to this war, he must kill or die. But to say it aloud. He didn't want to feel their pitying looks, he didn't want them to know how scared he was. He was supposed to be the brave one. Or, as Hermione often told him, he was the one playing the hero. Playing the Hero.   
  
He gritted his teeth and rolled over, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The last time he had played the hero he had lost the one most precious to him. And now, knowing that he would have to do it at least one more time, he wondered how many more lives that would cost. If he could have arranged a single meeting, he and Voldemort, live or die, just the two of them, then he would go gladly, and vow to take Voldemort down and/or lose his life trying.   
  
But he knew one thing, that there was no way that Voldemort, or even his friends, would allow that. Voldemort would want his minions nearby to see his moment of triumph. Harry's friends would want to be by his side, faithful to the end. And that was just what he was afraid of.  
  
The door creaked open, and he thought of feigning sleep but knew it was too late. He looked over the side of the bed and saw Ginny standing there, uncertain. "Harry." She said quietly. "You're going to live." And then she turned and vanished down the hall.   
  
For some reason that made Harry feel better. He just hoped it was true.   
  
When he came down sometime later, lured by the scents of dinner, he saw that Ron and Hermione had returned from the garden. Hermione had a peculiar looking little smile on her face while Ron just grinned goofily.   
  
"Hey, Harry." Ron said, still grinning. "Try some of this." He pointed at one of the dishes.   
  
Harry glanced at Lupin, who smiled at him. He let out a relieved smile of his own and sat down, pulling the dish forward and beginning to pile food onto his plate. He should have known that they wouldn't say anything to Ron and Hermione, both of whom, he knew, would be horrified. He didn't like keeping things from his best friends, but some things were best kept to oneself.   
  
  
  
Harry lay in the soft, warm, slightly worn bed reading one of his Quidditch books as he tried to get to sleep. Ron was snoring softly in the bed next to his and even the giggles emanating from the girl's room across the hall had died down. He finally threw the book down on his nightstand, set his glasses on it and rolled over, punching his pillow. This only gave minimal satisfaction, however.   
  
Finally, giving up on sleep for the time being, he sat up, and, putting his glasses back on, swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and made his way out of the room, a half-formed notion of warm milk forming in his sleep deprived mind.   
  
Harry stumbled down the stairs, yawning and rumpling his hair. The floor was cold and he wished he had thought to put on his slippers. This, however, did have the added effect of waking him a bit more. He moved into the kitchen, wondering how, in this wizarding house, one was supposed to make some warm milk without magic. However, a moment later this was forgotten. A sliver of light appeared as though from an opening door from a lighted room. It shone directly into Harry's eyes, making him blink and turn.   
  
It was indeed a door, he now saw. One that he had not noticed before. A couple of seconds later he saw why. This door had been covered by a cabinet, which swung out as the door was opened. At this point Harry's sleepiness completely left him and his natural curiosity kicked in. The milk forgotten, he moved to the door and peered in the crack. All that greeted his eyes was a stone staircase spiraling downwards. Blinking in the light of the flickering torches that lit the way, he eased the door open a bit more. It didn't even squeak, which suggested to him that this doorway was regularly used. Without even thinking about it, he eased the door open a bit more, just enough so he could slip through.   
  
The stone stairs were so cold that he felt as though his feet were freezing, but the torches warmed the air sufficiently to burn off the chill. He eased down the steps, pausing every few moments to see if he could hear anything or anyone moving. Then, suddenly, there was a door at the bottom of the stair. It too, was slightly open. And as he watched as shadow nudged the door open a bit more and looked up at him with green eyes that glowed in the darkness.   
  
Then it hit Harry like a blow to the stomach. It was full moon. That was why he hadn't needed a candle as he moved down to the kitchen. The light of the moon had filled the house. With a strangled yell, he backed back up the stairs, trying not to provoke the tawny wolf still standing before him. It looked almost as startled to see him as he to see it. It shouldered the door shut behind it and rushed up the stairs after Harry, and he could hear a low growl behind him.   
  
As he fled he could swear he felt its warm breath warming his chilled feet and hear it panting as it chased him up the stairs. He expected to feel the tearing of teeth at any moment, condemning him to the life of a werewolf, shunned and feared. He darted through the door behind the cabinet, and skidded to a stop, taking a few running steps back to slam it closed. But before he did, the tawny shadow slid through the opening and stood again before him, its green eyes catching the light of the moon. Its mouth was open and its tongue was hanging over gleaming white, sharp teeth.   
  
Harry thought about bellowing for help, but he was sure that the creature could work its curse on him long before anyone could make it down the stairs and to his aid. He didn't want to startle it into leaping at him. And as luck would have it, he had left his wand on his table next to 'Quidditch through the Ages.' His eyes darted around for escape routes, thinking if he could get far enough away from it he may be able to come back and maybe lock it out of the house.  
  
But the wolf was not making any move towards him, it was merely standing there, looking at him almost expectantly. Why expectantly? He looked at it closer, focusing on the pupil of the eye, the shape of the muzzle, the tail... He gulped, almost relieved. This wasn't a werewolf.   
  
Harry stopped cringing and stood up as the wolf sat on its haunches, its head tilted to the side. "You're just a wolf." He said, then felt a little silly. He forgot this though, when the wolf shimmered peculiarly and changed. It was Tala, her green eyes catching the light of the moon and her face distinctly un-amused.   
  
"Not exactly 'just a wolf' Harry." She said coolly, turning to the cabinet behind her and shutting it firmly. He heard it catch with a loud click. Then she turned back to the young wizard, her eyes still cool and her arms folded across her chest. "And I truly wish you hadn't 've seen that." She sighed and moved to the kitchen table, pulling out her wand. Harry tensed, but she only used it to set the teapot boiling and to move it and a tea tray to the table. She glanced up at him, and a rueful smile twisted her mouth. "Take a seat, Harry, and relax. I'm not angry, just upset."   
  
He watched her from his chair as she moved restlessly around the kitchen. Finally, she located a box of biscuits and moved it to the table as well, then poured a cup of tea for herself and for Harry. She seemed as though she didn't know what to say. She looked at him over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip, then set it down with another audible sigh. "As I'm sure you've deduced Harry, I am an animagus." She looked away, and he saw she was looking out the window at the full moon. "And now you are one of only a limited number of people who know this." She pushed the box of biscuits towards him. "Have one." He complied.  
  
"The place where I grew up was a haven of sorts for werewolves. My parents are researchers, like me, and we are looking for a cure."  
  
"Have you...?" He asked.  
  
"Our latest potion makes the transfigurations easier, and helps them to keep their own mind, and health, but still we keep looking." She replied. "It is a vast improvement, but..." She trailed off with a helpless gesture. "Anyways, as I was saying, Stepenwolv Research Facility is a place where werewolves are accepted as full members of a community. While I was growing up, most of my friends were werewolves. I've always loved wolves, but wasn't quite nuts enough to be willingly bitten. So instead I became an animagus." She set down her teacup and leaned back in her chair, glancing at the cabinet that concealed the door that led to Remus as she drummed her fingers on the table. "We don't have to register in the States, but over here..." Again the helpless gesture. "And wolves are not well-thought-of animagi forms." She picked up her tea, and took a few more sips. "I have to ask you, Harry, not to tell anyone about this. I know you are a trustworthy young man, so I'll trust your word if you give it."   
  
He didn't even have to think it over. "I won't tell anyone, Tala." He assured her. She reached over and squeezed his hand.   
  
"Thank you, Harry." She smiled. She stood and levitated the dirty dishes to the sink. "Now you must go to bed, Harry. We have a lot to do tomorrow, and I want to get back to Remus." Harry was looking straight in her eyes as she said his former professor's name, and he wasn't hard pressed to define the expression he saw there. He contemplated it as he turned and moved up the stairs, he thought about it as he removed his dressing gown and glasses and snuggled himself beneath the covers. It was love, pure love. Harry closed his eyes as Durry came down and snuggled between his cheek and shoulder. Then, with his little pet's strange purring in his ears, he fell asleep, a blessedly dreamless sleep.  
  
The next morning saw them sorting through their trunks for some muggle clothes to wear on their trip and while they were in America. They would be purchasing some everyday robes to wear as well. Hermione was positively excited to be able to obtain some non-school robes. Lupin, as soon as he had had breakfast and was nearly his old self again, had rummaged in the attic and found some old, and slightly musty, duffle bags with enchanted interiors so that didn't have to lug around their trunks. Anything they didn't take would remain at his home until they returned. Even Hermione decided that the duffel bag would be more convenient than the muggle luggage she had used on her vacations in the previous years. She was still busily piling all her books in when the rest of them were ready to leave for Diagon Alley. Tala and Moody would be accompanying them while Remus would be staying home to get the rest of his strength back.   
  
"C'mon Hermione," They could hear Ginny saying from they were waiting in the kitchen. "You can finish later. Anyways, you're going to have even more to pack when we get back." Apparently, Hermione saw the point of the girl's arguments, for soon she was coming down the stairs accompanied by the red-head, pulling her robes on over a green jumper and tartan skirt.   
  
"How are we getting there, anyway, Professor Moody?" Ron asked. He was so tall now that he was nearly on eye level with the gnarled old Auror. He seemed rather uncomfortable by this new arrangement, and often tried to duck when Moody's magical eye was turned on him.   
  
"For the last time boy," Moody said grumpily, "Call me Mad-Eye or Moody. I wasn't your professor and you know it." He glared at Ron, who looked like he wanted to hide behind something. Moody seemed satisfied by this reaction and turned to the question. "Floo network isn't safe, neither are broomsticks. The Knight Bus is too unreliable and you are too young to Apparate, so Dumbledore charged us a Port-Key to get us there, and another to get us back."   
  
"We will, however, be taking our broomsticks to the Landing. We're going to need them once we hit the States." Lupin interjected. He caught Tala's hand as she tried to pile more food on his plate, and brought it to his lips. She seemed flustered and Harry thought that it was a clever way to get her to stop hovering like a mother hen. She had already taken his former professor's temperature twice, checked his pulse, measured his blood-pressure and examined his eyes. Lupin had endured it all with a small amused smile. But even he had his limit of patience.  
  
"Are we ready then?" Moody said, a flicker of a smile playing across his slash of a mouth. Nods all around. "Fine, you know the drill." And everyone crowded around, Remus taking the time to give Tala a kiss before he stood back and let her join the others. They each lay a finger on the battered and splintered bludger bat that Moody had produced from somewhere within his robes. Harry winced as he now felt that familiar pull behind his navel, and he caught a glance of Professor Lupin's farewell wave before the room blurred out of sight.   
  
Please, please, please Read and review. 


	3. Chapter 3: Bundles and Cords

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I wish I did. I wished I owned Lupin too. And Snape. Isn't he fun? But I don't, J.K. Rowling does, and no use crying over it, I suppose.  
  
Chapter Three: Bundles and Cords  
  
Harry stumbled and nearly fell as the old familiar streets of Diagon Alley flashed into clarity before him. Only by grabbing onto Ginny's shoulder was he able to remain upright, and keep her so as well.   
  
"Everyone alright?" Moody asked, his magical eye rolling around to peer at the lot of them. They were standing in a small passage between two buildings off of Diagon Alley. From what Harry could see, it appeared that their sudden appearance had gone unnoticed. He clasped Ron's hand to pull him up and noticed Moody solicitously offering the same service to Tala, who looked startled.   
  
She noticed his glance and gave a self-conscious laugh as she allowed Moody to pull her up. "First time." She said quietly, brushing off the back of her robes. Ron assisted Hermione, and, after Moody peered cautiously out of the mouth of the small alley, they all trooped out.   
  
Moody gave them a word of caution before they went their separate ways. "Keep your hands on your wands, your eyes open and stay in Diagon Alley." Then he went off in one direction, Tala took the girls to Madame Malkin's, and Harry and Ron headed over to Quality Quidditch Supplies to look over the latest in equipment, planning on heading over to get their own robes a bit later.  
  
"I'm not getting new robes, anyways." Ron told Harry quietly as they looked over broom care supplies. "Dad gave me some of his and Bill's and I have the dress robes Fred and George gave me. I'm just going to have Madame Malkin let them out a bit, they made sure there was plenty of extra material at the hem and sleeves."  
  
"Thoughtful of them," Harry murmured, a bit embarrassed. He didn't like to be reminded of how little the Weasley's, some of the nicest people he knew, had. He had his own pocketful of Galleons and Sickles, but he knew that Ron would never accept money from him. "We'll have to make sure to visit their joke shop while we're here. I want to see the results of my investment." He grinned.   
  
It wasn't difficult to locate Fred and George's new place of residence. This was due in part to the huge sign above the door that flashed Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in lurid colors every few seconds. The green smoke pouring out the door was also hard to miss. Ron and Harry held their robes over their faces, and, after a nervous look at each other, headed inside.   
  
"Fred, George?" Ron called when inside. He immediately burst into a fit of coughing. The green smoke had a distinct smell of sulfur and appeared to fill every corner of the shop. Harry heard a crash, then Fred, or George's voice calling out a dispersion spell. The smoke disappeared in a puff of...smoke, and Ron and Harry could now see the twins staring at them both wearing their coats of lurid green dragonskin.   
  
"Ronnikins! Harry! Good to see you." Fred called.  
  
"Pardon our smoke, my good fellows, we were just demonstrating a new product." George added, "But it seems our customer has vanished. Hope we didn't do that."   
  
The shop was quite large and filled from top to bottom with assorted jokes and tricks. Harry spotted the old familiar joke wands, fireworks, and large boxes of Skiving Snackboxes, which had been used to great effect the year before. As Ron talked to his brothers, he moved around, somewhat cautiously, peering in boxes and crates. He was delighted, and impressed with the variety of products that the Weasley twins had invented. He picked up a box that read 'Dragon Dungbombs' and held it cautiously, knowing the tendency of Weasley products to suddenly explode.   
  
"Specialty, new and improved. Guaranteed twice the stink." George grinned from over his shoulder. "All right, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded, "How's business?" he asked.   
  
"Doing splendidly." Fred said, "Lee started helping us out over the summer, so we have more time for, other things."  
  
The emphasis Fred put on the last two words told Harry all that he needed to know. Fred and George, now that they were out of school, were members of the Order, as they had longed to be. Harry wasn't sure exactly what they did for the Order, but the two of them seemed satisfied with their work, so Harry figured it was going well.  
  
They spent quite a bit more time perusing the shelves, often with one of the Weasley twins providing commentary. When they left they were loaded down with bags of jokes, most of them procured at discount. They headed towards Madame Malkin's, already planning a bit of havoc, not too much, just a bit, for the coming year. As they headed that way they passed Ginny and Hermione headed the other direction.   
  
"Going to visit Fred and George," Ginny called with a wave. They were both weighted down with various packages, and Harry assumed that their shopping was a success.   
  
They entered the robes shop, and Harry looked at the racks, wondering what exactly he should buy, while Ron stood on a stool as Madame Malkin adjusted his robes to fit. He had grown a few more inches over the summer. Harry found a few plain robes in dark colors. He didn't want black, so he selected navy blue, forest green and, on impulse, a deep purple. He liked the style and thought that they would get him through quite a few years. He also purchased a dark gray wool traveling cloak, as Professor Lupin said it could get cold on the ship. He even got a good pair of dragonhide boots. Finally he got new dress robes, bottle green as before. When he had purchased them he found Ron waiting for him, holding his own packages in his hands.   
  
"Flourish and Blotts next?" He asked. Harry nodded and off they went, negotiating their way down the street. Ron was somewhat ahead of Harry when someone knocked into him and his parcels were dropped and scattered. He grumbled as he gathered them up again and stood, finding himself face to face with Professor Snape. Snape looked as ill-tempered as usual.   
  
"Potter." He said briefly and them moved to go past him.  
  
"Professor." Harry said coldly. He had still not gotten over his belief that Snape was responsible for Sirius' death, even though he knew he bore the better part of the blame.   
  
Snape stopped and turned, and Harry could see that he was startled. "What did you say, Potter?"  
  
"Nothing, sir." He injected the phrase with as much sarcasm as he could muster. Snape stepped closer, and Harry could see his eyes roaming the street in quick, jerky movements.   
  
"Potter," His voice had dropped to a whisper. "What did you SAY?" Harry stared at him. He hadn't said anything to his knowledge. Certainly nothing to elicit this reaction. He took a step back. "I couldn't understand you, Potter." Snape said in a barely audible voice.  
  
Harry thought he had spoken clearly enough, so he said nothing. But then he wondered, had he... He thought a moment before it struck him. Parseltongue, he thought, if Snape hadn't been able to understand him, then that must have been it. But why would he speak parseltongue?   
  
"Do you think I am a SNAKE, Potter?" Snape said dangerously.  
  
"No sir." Harry said quietly, he privately thought of Snape as more of an overgrown bat, but he wasn't about to say that. Snape grabbed his arm in a compulsive grip and steered him away from the crowd, stopping in the shadows in front of one of the stores.   
  
"Do you see it?" He asked quickly, and Harry was startled at the intensity of Snape's voice. "Do you see it, Potter?!" Harry shook his head. "You need to see a snake to speak parseltongue, don't you?" Harry nodded. "Then where could it be?" Snape looked around, and Harry could see something like apprehension on his face. "Look, Potter, this is important. Snakes are used, as I am sure you know, as spies for the Dark Lord. If one is following me around, or you, we must know."   
  
Harry stared at him, the lack of rancor in his Professor's voice was very unusual. Then he looked around, seeing nothing, he closed his eyes and strained his ears, trying to hear the voice of the snake that Snape believed was nearby.  
  
"Where are you?" He said in parseltongue.  
  
"Quieter, Potter." Snape hissed.  
  
"Where are you?" Harry asked again. He moved his head from side to side. Trying to hear the barest whisper.  
  
"You speak." Came a small, hissing voice from the shadow of Snape's robes.   
  
"Don't move, Professor." Harry said urgently, "it seems to be in your robes." Snape turned so pale that Harry would not have been surprised if he fainted dead away. He spoke to the snake again. "Why are you here?"  
  
"I am commanded to be." The snake paused. "Are you a master? You speak."  
  
Harry only hesitated a moment, "I am. Come out so that I can see you." A moment later a small snake, black like Snape's robes, slid out of a fold in the material and slithered towards Harry, it's tongue darting nervously.   
  
"What is your wish, master?" the small snake asked. Snape backed against the wall, swallowing.   
  
"Poisonous." He mouthed to Harry.  
  
"What are your orders?" He asked.  
  
"To remain with this one," It flicked its tail at Snape, "Until I am summoned back to report all that I see."   
  
"I see." Harry said. He looked down at the snake, then up at Snape. His mouth tightened. "Would you like to remain with me instead?"  
  
"Potter!" Snape said harshly, "What are you doing?" For Harry had stepped closer to the snake and was stooping down, offering it his hand.   
  
"Would I like to? What does it matter whether I would like to or not?"  
  
"I will not force you." He said, knowing the streak of independence that snakes had, having felt the effects of being one several times. The memories filled him with horror, still. "I just ask that you do not bite any of my friends, or my pets." He added.   
  
"That is all?" The snake asked curiously. "It seems simple."  
  
"It is," Harry assured him. The snake approached his hand, and curled around his wrist, flicking its tongue out to taste Harry's scent. Harry ignored Snape's intake of breath. "We will be friends." Harry said confidently.  
  
"An interesting concept." The snake murmured.   
  
Harry pulled his sleeve down to cover the snake now contentedly wrapped around his wrist, and turned to Snape, who was staring at him in disbelief.  
  
"What have you done, Potter?" He hissed.   
  
"Gained a new pet." Harry said carelessly. Snape's mouth hardened into a thin, white line.   
  
"This is not a joke, Potter. You have taken a dangerous creature, one of the," he glanced around, then lowered his voice, "Dark Lord's creatures into your possession. Are you insane? What makes you think it won't bite you in your sleep?"   
  
"Snakes don't lie." Harry said. Snape made a low noise in his throat. "Well, normal snakes don't."   
  
"Of what do you speak?" The small snake said rather sleepily.  
  
"He doubts your trustworthiness." Harry said bluntly.   
  
"I will not betray you, master. You asked, you did not command." The snake assured him with a small bite to his voice.  
  
Harry turned to Snape again, "I'll be fine, Professor. This snake will not kill me." Snape's eyes narrowed at him, and Harry wondered if he had said too much.  
  
"You are either very brave or very foolish, Potter." Snape spat, leaving no doubt as to which one he was leaning towards. "I will see you at the start of term." Then, with a swirl of his black cloak, he swept away, leaving Harry with an armful of bundles and a small poisonous snake curled around his wrist.   
  
"Oy, Harry! Mate!" Harry saw Ron waving at him. "Where have you been?" He asked when Harry joined him in front of Flourish and Blott's.   
  
"Just talking to Snape." Harry said in exasperation. "He's as pleasant as ever."  
  
"I see, sorry." Ron consoled him. "Well, at least we only have potions with him for two more years." He said with a grimace.  
  
Harry laughed grimly as they entered the shop and he gave his book list to the assistant. He wandered around as he waited, peering in some of the books that looked interesting. He was aware of the weight of the snake, he needed to think of a name for him, curled around his wrist. He moved around one of the shelves and quickly came face to face with Tala. Well, not exactly face to face, as she had her buried in a book. She looked up briefly.  
  
"Hey, Harry." She greeted him, "It's really quite amazing, the book selections." She gestured with the book, and Harry could read the title, which was printed in peeling red letters. 'Anciente and Obscure Potions.' "I've already gotten some ideas on variations I can use in my research." She said excitedly. "Listen to this!"  
  
"This potion was used in order to prevent the use of transfiguration on unwilling parties. It inhibits the transmogrification of the cellular structure and keeps the individual who has taken it in his or her chosen form." She was grinning broadly.   
  
"That does sound promising." Harry said a little doubtfully, knowing that never in a million years would he be able to invent his own potion.  
  
"I need to buy this book." Tala said. And she dashed off to the counter as the assistant approached Harry with the contents of his booklist. He paid for them, and then he and Ron, who had been cheerfully absorbed in a volume about the longest quidditch match in history, left the shop to head to Fortescue's, where they had agreed to meet the others. Along the way, Harry told Ron about the trouble with Snape and the snake. Ron was suitably amazed and asked to see the snake.   
  
"Bloody hell, mate!" he exclaimed. "Doesn't it make you nervous to have a snake, a poisonous snake, one that was sent by, V-voldemort." He gulped. "On you, where it could turn and bite at any moment?"   
  
"No."   
  
Ron stared at him, then shook his head. "Harry, you're the bravest bloke I've ever met."  
  
"Or the most foolish." Harry supplied.   
  
"So, what did you name it?" Ron asked, still nervous, and trying to hide it.  
  
"I didn't" Harry admitted.   
  
"Well, don't let Ginny do it. I mean, look at Pig." He pulled a face and Harry laughed.   
  
"How about Cord?"  
  
"Where'd you get that?" Ron asked, shifting his bundles in his arms.  
  
"Top of my head." Harry replied.  
  
"Works for me, mate." Ron said with a grin. "Wonder how everyone else is going to react."  
  
"Let's keep it pretty quiet," Harry thought quickly, "I don't think that the others would approve."   
  
"You've got that right." Ron muttered. "Imagine what Moody would say."  
  
Just then they caught sight of the others standing in front of Fortescue's, Tala grinning as she clutched her new book, and a few other things wrapped in brown paper, which could have been anything. The rest, but for Moody, holding heavy bundles. "Ready, Harry? Ron?" Tala asked cheerfully. The two of them nodded.   
  
If any of the others had noticed the way Harry held his wrist, stiffly and a little away from the rest of his body, they didn't say anything. Florean Fortescue nodded at Harry as they trooped away. Soon they found themselves back in the small space between two of the shops, and Moody pulled out an empty box of matches. He peered at it in curiosity for a moment before holding out to the rest of them. There was much shifting of bundles as they all moved in closer to lay a finger on the port-key. Harry found himself contorting into odd shapes, trying to keep the wrist with Cord wrapped around it away from the others. Finally, all fingers were touching the large matchbox and they were whisked away.  
  
Please, please, please, Read and Review! 


	4. Chapter 4: Landing

Chapter 4: Landing  
  
Their packages lay on their beds, their wrappings now unfurled, the twine that had bound them cut and lying like small brown snakes on the worn bedspreads. Also on the bed lay another sort of snake, a glossy black one that Harry had named Cord. He lay curled on the pillow, watching as Harry and Ron packed their purchases in their bags. They prudently decided to leave the jokes they had purchased at Fred and George's shop there for the time being. Hedwig was in her cage, preening her snowy white feathers and Durry sat perched on the headboard of Harry's bed, watching the snake as intently as it was watching Harry. Harry glanced over at the two of them from time to time, his brows knitted in concern. It was of extreme importance that the two of them got along, but Harry was leery of trying to introduce them.   
  
"What is this rodent watching me?" The snake asked.  
  
"That is Durry, he is my pet." Harry replied, glancing at his new Defense Against the Dark Arts book before stowing it in his bag, and ignoring the small, nervous noises that Ron was making. Ron could never get used to Harry being a Parselmouth, as he had said on many occasions. "He should be your friend too." Harry continued pointedly.  
  
"I cannot eat him, then?"  
  
"No." Harry told him emphatically. "We will be spending much time together, and I need you two to get along."  
  
"Yes, master." The snake replied sullenly. He uncoiled and slithered towards Durry, who stayed where he was, his golden eyes wide and his wings standing stiffly out from his back. He was a strange yellow green color at the moment, and Harry supposed it meant that the small creature was nervous. The snake stretched forward in what Harry supposed was intended to be a non-threatening manner. He glanced at Ron, who was also watching in apprehension.   
  
"He's not going to try and eat Durry, is he?" Ron said out of the corner of his mouth. Harry smiled, hoping that Ron would take that as a no. At this point, Durry, who seemed to be as curious as his owner, was stretching down his nose towards the swaying snake, they could see his ears twitching as forked tongue met round black nose. Durry looked taken aback for a moment, then leaned forward again, nearly toppling off of his perch. The snake regarded him as they exchanged the greetings unique to each of their kinds. Finally Cord lowered his head and slithered back to the dent in Harry's pillow.   
  
"The small creature is not unpleasant." He remarked.  
  
"I am glad," Harry replied with a relieved sigh.   
  
Ron gulped and said, in a rather strangled voice. "I suppose that's all settled, then?"  
  
"Seems to be," Harry turned around to grab one of the packages that contained his new everyday robes, and opened it. He thought that they would be very comfortable for the trip. He pulled off his sneakers and threw them in his bag, then took out his new boots and yanked them on before pulling on his new robes and fastening them. They happened to be his navy blue ones. He glanced over at Ron and saw that he was also wearing robes, they looked like they were some sort of tweed. They were a bit too large but by the look on Ron's face he wasn't too displeased.   
  
He crammed an almost matching wizard's cap on his head and turned to face the mirror, which chuckled and said, "Bless your freckles!" Ron flushed a bright red and turned to Harry who was chuckling as he fastened his gray cloak over his shoulders.   
  
"It's strange, but I feel like a real wizard." Harry told him.  
  
"You are a real wizard, Harry." Ron said teasingly.  
  
"I know, but now I feel like one." He turned to the bed and stopped. "Ron," He said in a hushed voice, "Come look." Ron peered over his shoulder and saw Durry and Cord curled up together on the pillow.  
  
"The creature is very warm." Cord commented impassively. Harry wordlessly held out his hand and Cord curled himself over his wrist. Durry stayed asleep, purring comfortably, as Harry transferred him to his box. Finally he and Ron shouldered their bags, took the cages containing their owls and the box containing Durry, then trooped down the stairs.   
  
Once they reached the kitchen, Moody fixed them with both his normal eye and his magical one. "Have your wands?" Harry had to set a few things down before he could feel in his pocket, making sure he did have his wand. He nodded and Ron held up his own before Moody grunted. He peered out the window. "Looks like it's dark enough. The flight will take several hours." He said, "Everyone ready." It was more of a statement than a question.   
  
They all made various statements of affirmation. Ginny pulling on her cloak as she did so. It was yellow tartan with threads of red and went quite well with her hair. Hermione had opted for a long blue coat instead of a cloak and she was hefting her duffle bag to her shoulder. She had left Crookshanks with her parents, she had told them her mother had grown rather fond of him and anyways she did not think he would take well to sea travel. Lupin, who was sporting a new chocolate brown cloak, had his broom in hand, while Tala, dressed in ochre red, handed the rest of them their own. They all helped each other fasten their packages to their brooms, and after Moody had assessed the perimeter, they took off towards the western coast and Landing.   
  
They rose above the clouds, where the waning moon painted them in soft silver. Harry was glad he had gotten his new cloak, which kept him warm, even while drenched in mist. He reached under his broom to undo the catch on Hedwig's cage, and saw her soar out and move to fly beside him. He left the catch open for when she got tired, but for now she was content to glide among the broomsticks like a silvery shadow. He glanced over to where Ron was riding beside Hermione and got a huge grin in return, he looked to the other side and saw Ginny do the same, her smile lighting up her whole face. Hermione, on the other hand, did not like flying at all and she had a death-grip on her broom handle and a grim look on her face.   
  
Ron looked at her in concern. "All right Hermione!?" He yelled in order to be heard over the flapping of cloaks and the rush of the wind surrounding them.   
  
She glanced at him and nodded with a tight lipped smile. Ron nodded back, but the concern didn't leave his face.   
  
Quite a few times during their interminable voyage, Moody would dip down below the cloud cover, which they knew he approved of immensely, to scan the area for pursuit and to check their location. He would trade off this task with Tala and Remus about once every fifteen minutes. And apparently they never saw anything to worry about, for they continued on their route uninterrupted.   
  
Harry was just beginning to get drowsy when they slowed and began to make their descent. He could feel excitement gripping his chest as they passed through the clouds. He had never been to the ocean before, had never even seen it. Whenever the Dursleys had taken Dudley over the holidays, he had been left with Mrs. Figg, or with Yvonne. Admittedly, when this happened it was more pleasant for Harry to remain at home, for, invariably, they would come home early because Dudley was complaining of the sand being too hot or the water being too cold. Once he had been bitten by a crab and the Dursleys had somehow got it into their heads that Harry had, from Mrs. Figg's house, set the creature on Dudley.   
  
They burst through the overcast and Harry gasped. It was immense, and a rolling, steely gray, the breakers gleaming white upon the surface as they journeyed towards the shore.   
  
"Landing!" Moody bellowed. And Harry's gaze followed his pointing finger to a small port gleaming on the edge of the sea. They came in for a smooth landing and were greeted by a young wizard who bore a striking resemblance to the pirates that Harry had seen once or twice on television. He had his long, curly hair pulled back into a tail and no less than three gold hoops in his ear. He even had a cutlass tucked into the sash at his waist and tall black, heeled boots.  
  
He gave them a wide grin and a short bow. "Welcome to Landing." His eyes lit on Ginny, Hermione and Tala, "Some fine wenches you fellows have there."   
  
Ron moved possessively closer to Hermione, who was looking at the wizard with some interest. She noticed Ron's scowl and laughed, taking his arm and making him blush. Ginny grinned back unabashedly.   
  
"Aren't you going out with Dean?" Ron asked grumpily.   
  
"We broke up in the second week of the holidays." Ginny supplied, still eyeing the pirate. Moody stumped forward to talk quietly with him.   
  
The pirate nodded, "Sure, that's my ship, the 'Ramien'. Dock 5" He turned to the rest of them. "My name is Joseph Clearwater and I will be your captain for this voyage. Follow me and I'll get you to the ship."  
  
Ron groaned and Harry found himself scowling. But Ginny looked thoughtful. "Did you say Clearwater, captain?" She asked in her clear voice, falling in beside Harry as they headed off towards the large docks.   
  
"Ay, lass." He said with a crooked grin. "But call me Joseph."  
  
"Are you related to Penelope Clearwater?"  
  
"Yes, she's my little sister." He replied. "Know her?"  
  
They exchanged glances and small, stifled grins. "Yes," Ron said, "She went out with my brother for a time."  
  
Joseph stopped and turned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Ron. "Weasley?" He asked, then answered himself immediately. " 'Course you are, the hair tips it off." He grimaced, "Can't say I care much for Percy, but Bill was my best mate at Hogwarts."  
  
"Percy has rather, fallen out of favor with us." Ron said with a scowl. "The git."   
  
Joseph gave him a fortifying clap on the shoulder, then, tossing his mahogany colored ponytail over his shoulder, he continued on his way. They trooped after him, their broomsticks, laden down with belongings, were kept at a hover by their sides.   
  
As they drew closer to the gleaming wooden docks Harry could hear the roar of the ocean and the clap of waves against the hulls of the ship. A few moments later, the torches, on what proved to be dock five, all lit at once, filling the area with their flickering light. And now Harry could see their ship for the first time. To tell the truth he had been expecting something like the skeletal ship that the Durmstrang students had used to get to Hogwarts during his fourth year. But what he saw before him made him gulp convulsively and exchange horrified looks with Ron.   
  
The 'Ramien' was three times as tall as it was wide, rolling unsteadily even in the relatively gentler surf of the harbor. It was also a horribly familiar shade of purple, with its name in large, curling gold letters painted across the hull.   
  
"Isn't she beautiful?" Joseph said fondly.   
  
"How does it stay upright?" Ron gasped, clutching his broom to his chest as though for protection.   
  
Joseph the pirate decided to ignore him. "Let's get the luggage on board." He announced professionally, "If you are taking any animals with you, other than owls, we require a quick check at the infirmary before we can depart. We have two other passengers whom we will be delivering to their destinations before I take you to Plymouth." He took a breath. "Got all that?"  
  
They nodded. "Good then," He continued. "If those of you who do not need to check in will follow me, I will escort you to your cabins. During certain portions of our journey you will need to remained confined to them."  
  
"Why is that?" Tala asked.   
  
"Because we'll be underwater." He supplied.  
  
"Oh." Tala looked a bit put off by that, but she, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Moody followed after him, taking along the other's brooms, Hedwig glided along after them while Pig fluttered in his cage, Ron deciding that he was too hyperactive to be let out.  
  
Harry clutched Durry's box as they walked towards the infirmary, which resembled nothing more than a bait shop than anything else. Lupin's face was set as he accompanied him. Harry glanced at him curiously.   
  
"Regulations on werewolf travels." Lupin spat suddenly. "I need to be checked over as if I were an animal." Harry looked at his usually even-tempered professor sympathetically. "Ridiculous, simply...dehumanizing." The professor grumbled under his breath. Harry glanced behind him and saw Tala looking over her shoulder as she mounted the shaky gangplank leading to the ship. Her eyes caught the light of the torches and flashed. He knew what she was thinking and moved closer to his professor, clasping his arm in a comforting grip. Lupin put his hand on Harry's wrist and gave him a grim smile, a smile that quickly turned into a look of surprise.  
  
"Harry, what?" He said. And he quickly pulled back the sleeve of Harry's robes, exposing the slender black snake wrapped around his wrist. "Harry, where did you get this?" Harry glanced around, and, finding no one nearby, told his former professor where the snake had come from. Lupin looked suitably shocked.   
  
"Why did you do it, Harry?" Lupin asked.   
  
Harry looked at the snake with a contemplative grimace. "I thought about that." He said slowly. "And I thought that I had a better chance of dealing with it than Snape."  
  
"You did it for Snape." Lupin said just as slowly. "Because you were worried."  
  
"I wouldn't exactly put it like that." Harry protested. "But, sort of...I guess."  
  
"Well, it won't pass the exam for acceptable creatures to cross the international boundaries." Lupin murmured. "But I do NOT want it roaming around." He was silent for a few minutes, the lines on his face deepening in thought. "We could just..." He made a little gesture.  
  
"No." Harry said sharply. "I gave Cord my word I would keep him safe." That wasn't precisely true, but Harry had rather come to like the snake.   
  
"I see." He gave Harry a piercing look. "I'll have to transfigure it. Could you explain? Quietly." He took a glance around.  
  
"Snake?" Harry said, "Cord?" the snake lifted its head and looked at him sleepily.   
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
"It is custom to name those close to us."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Cord. Do you wish to stay with me?" The snake bobbed its sleek head in a 'yes' gesture. "Then we must change you into something else for a while. Will that be alright with you?" Cord looked at him with one beady black eye.  
  
"If I must." He replied finally.  
  
Harry looked at Lupin and nodded. His former professor took out his wand and tapped it gently on the snake's shining coils. "Enjerdum." He said quietly, and abruptly, Harry was wearing a bracelet that looked somewhat like banded leather, with a clasp shaped like the head of a snake.   
  
"Cool, professor." He said appreciatively.  
  
Lupin looked at it critically. "It is rather stylish, isn't it?" he grinned, "Sirius would have liked it." His smile turned sad, and he turned quickly, leaving Harry to trot after him and into the bait shop infirmary. They stepped inside and Harry was hustled off in one direction while Lupin went in another. Durry was quickly checked over and returned to Harry with a clean bill of health. The witch who checked him didn't even do so much as glance at the bracelet on Harry's wrist, though he was certainly aware of it. He stood in the lobby, waiting for Remus, who stormed out a few minutes later, his face like a thundercloud.   
  
"Idiots." He muttered at Harry's look, but refused to elaborate. They strode back to dock five, where the 'Remian' was waiting. The two of them wobbled up the gangplank and found the others waiting on the deck. Lupin looked around at them, then muttered, "I'm going to go to my cabin." And he stormed off, Tala hurried after him with an unhappy look.  
  
"He doesn't even know where his cabin is." Ron said with a raise of his eyebrow.   
  
"Everyone's aboard!" Joseph the pirate called from somewhere aft. "It's time to shove off."  
  
Ron looked rather ill.  
  
Please, please, please Read and Review. 


	5. Chapter 5: At Helm

I don't own Harry Potter, but I really, really wish I did.  
  
Chapter 5: At Helm  
  
Harry stood slumped over the rail of the Ramien, watching as the ship cut through the waves at an almost alarming rate. Harry didn't know much about ships but he did wonder how they managed to keep up their incredible rate of speed without the thing flying into pieces. The wind whipped his cloak back and he quickly caught it in one hand. For the middle of summer it was dreadfully cold up on deck. As he turned to lean against the rail, letting the wind catch him full in the face, he spied Hermione making her way towards him. She, unlike most of the others, was perfectly comfortable at sea, and had gotten her sea legs early. Ron, Harry, Tala and Moody had had to take a potion to ward off seasickness and still weren't comfortable with the rocking motion of the ship.   
  
Harry glanced towards the prow, where Ginny was leaning, her face towards the west and the wind tossing her hair back from her face like a living flame. She was smiling happily, and she laughed every time a particularly large wave broke over the ship and misted her with spray. Hermione followed his glance as she joined him at the rail.   
  
"She loves it." She said loudly, as she tried to catch her tossing hair in one hand. It had frizzed beyond belief in the damp weather. Harry turned to her with a pained grimace. She couldn't quite stifle a chuckle. "It's not so bad, Harry."  
  
"Easy for you to say," He replied grumpily.   
  
"Do you need more potion?" He shook his head. "Well, make sure not to ignore it if you start feeling sick again." Before he had taken the potion he had vomited out most of the small meal he had consumed at the beginning of the journey, before they hit rough seas. The fact that he had been joined by three other people made the incident much less embarrassing, especially since one of them was Moody.   
  
"I'm going to head below," He said loudly. And Hermione nodded before heading off to join Ginny. Unlike the small red-head, she did not seem to find it particularly amusing when she was drenched by the spray. He thought he heard her utter a very un-Hermione- like word before he moved out of earshot and her face was very cross. He made his way, very unsteadily, as he was wobbling side to side with the ship, towards the stern. There, on a raised deck that contained the door leading down to the cabins, was Captain Joseph, looking as though Christmas had come early as he twirled the helm.   
  
"Isn't it great, Harry!?" He bellowed. Harry didn't trust himself to answer. "Give me a storm tossed sea and a sturdy ship then send me off to stroll the world." It sounded to Harry as though he were reciting something. He thought he probably should answer.  
  
"Er...yeah." It wasn't much of an answer but it was the best he could do at the moment, trying to keep his footing as a wave drenched the deck. Captain Joseph had done the typical stare when he had seen Harry on deck, his eyes moving to the scar and then down to his passenger manifesto. Then it seemed as though he had promptly forgotten it.   
  
"And move through ports that few have seen, to seek myself behind the setting sun, in the craters of the moon, and to sail through the veil when my time is done. Oh give me a ship that turns the tides and follows the path of the stars..." Joseph continued to recite in a jovial voice, his curly ponytail tossing in the wind, his face turned towards the sky, and an ecstatic grin stretching his mouth.   
  
Harry stared at him for a long moment, his mouth set into a grim line, then he turned his gaze to his boots, watching as the water from a huge wave swamped the deck and swirled around them. The man before him, at this moment, was a man who was completely and utterly happy. His entire being shone with it, joy radiating out into the damp and gloomy air surrounding him. Harry wondered what it would feel like to be so happy. He had doubts that he would ever feel that way; not for a long time, perhaps, maybe never would; not with this burden that he had to bear. And the day that it might be lifted was the day that he found out if he would live or die.  
  
Right now, the only thing that could make him as happy as Captain Joseph looked, would be Sirius. Harry's jaws clenched and he made his deliberate way belowdecks, the captain's voice still ringing through the air behind him.   
  
Their cabins were located amidships, and Harry had to pass by several sealed doors before he reached them. He wondered if they contained the passengers who had underwater destinations. The flickering lamps cast odd shadows through the hallway, and Harry, once or twice, found himself looking back over his shoulder to see if he had been followed. He reached the cabin that they shared without seeing a single soul, however. And once he opened the door and stepped in, he remembered why he had left in the first place.  
  
Lupin, who was still looking rather grumpy, was sitting reclined on one of the bunks holding Tala, who had her eyes closed and her hands clutching at his robes almost in a death grip. "Don't like this, no, not at all." She kept murmuring.   
  
"It'll be alright, dear." Lupin was assuring her, stroking her hair in soothing motions. They had been doing that when he had left, too. Ron was stretched out prone on his bunk, his arm over his eyes. He was muttering about something involving sea monsters. Harry hoped Tala couldn't hear him.   
  
Meanwhile, Moody was sitting in one of the chairs that ere magically attached to the boards. He was glaring ferociously, as though daring the sea to just try and make him sick again. Harry was glad that he was not the window that Moody was glaring at. This window was the source of Tala and Ron's unease. And Harry was sure that, had it not been there, this voyage would have been far pleasanter.   
  
"Harry," Moody grunted without turning around, and he knew that his magical eye was peering straight at him through the back of his head.   
  
"Pro...Moody." Harry returned the greetings just as shortly. He moved over to his bunk, which was near Ron's, and, pulling off his damp boots and cloak, and, after gently moving Durry aside, stretched himself out on his bed. He hadn't hoped to get any sleep, but with Durry's purring in his ear, he found himself drifting off.   
  
He was standing on the deck, somewhat behind where the captain was steering at the helm. But this captain didn't have a long, curly ponytail that streamed back in the prevailing winds. For one thing, this captain had black hair, and it was shorter, merely brushing the shoulders of the tall man. Then Harry heard the captain laugh, a great, booming laugh like the bark of a dog.  
  
"Sirius?" Harry asked in a strangled voice. The man turned, leaving the spinning helm behind him. And as the ship veered of course, Harry could see the beloved face of his godfather, looking no older than Captain Joseph, and beaming at him.  
  
"What fun this is, Harry!" He said in delight. But Harry could see, looming behind him, on top of the suddenly still water, a stone archway, unsupported, its opening covered by a torn and rippling veil. The ship was heading towards it, slowing quickly. He started forward with a warning cry, but Sirius just looked past him. "You must do what she cannot, Harry." He said calmly.  
  
Harry did not want to look, he did not want to tear his eyes away from his godfather, he didn't want him to vanish the moment his back was turned, as he had before. But the dream compelled him and he twisted around. Behind him, as he had expected, he saw the blonde-haired woman, tears coursing down her face, holding her hand out to the man behind Harry. "Who is she, Sirius?" Harry asked. "Sirius?" He turned back around, knowing what he would see, but dreading it all the same. Again, Sirius was gone, and, sitting as though it were on solid ground, only the arch with the rippling veil remained. He raced forward, taking the steps four at a time, until he was stopped suddenly with an invisible force.   
  
"Let me go!" He yelled.   
  
"Harry," The voices murmured, "Not yet."  
  
"No! Sirius, Sirius!" He screamed.  
  
"Harry! Harry!" Someone was shaking him, but he tried to cling to the dream.  
  
"No." He whimpered.   
  
His bright green yes flew open, and he saw the concerned face of Professor Lupin hovering over him swim into focus. Harry sat up abruptly then buried his face in his hands, trying to control his gasping breaths. "What does it mean?" He wondered quietly. "What does he want me to do?"  
  
"Who?" Lupin said sharply, "Voldemort?"   
  
Harry shook his head miserably. "No," He said, hating the brokenness of his voice. "Sirius." Lupin grasped his shoulder suddenly.   
  
"What do you mean?" He sounded strangled as well.   
  
Harry looked around the cabin, noting that everyone else seemed to be asleep; most of the lamps were doused, apart from the one by his bed, whose light flickered over the worn face of his professor. He took a few more calming breaths, trying to gather his thoughts. "He's talked to me, in my dreams." Harry rumpled his hair, his face contorting before he could settle it until stillness. "Never a lot, but in the two dreams I've had he has said one thing the same, both times." He peered up at Lupin, who had perched on the side of his bunk and was watching him seriously. He nodded at Harry to go on. "He says, 'You must do what she cannot.' And then this blond woman appears behind me. Then when I turn around..." He had to gulp a couple times to clear his throat. "All that is there is the veil."  
  
Lupin looked very concerned. "A blond woman, Harry?"  
  
"Yeah, once I thought I saw her when I was awake, but now I think I was just seeing things."  
  
His professor made a small non-committal noise. He seemed to be thinking very hard. "It's too bad your Occlumency lessons did not turn out as well as we would have hoped. Durry should provide you with some protection." He glanced at the small creature with some concern, and Harry noticed that Durry was breathing rather heavily, and his fur was once again gray. Lupin picked the small chrono up and held it carefully. He felt his pulse and his nose, and when Durry sleepily opened his eyes, he checked them too.   
  
"Is he okay, Professor?" Harry inquired anxiously.   
  
"He's just tired, Harry." Professor Lupin assured him, resettling the little creature next to Harry's pillow. "He must have been quite busy tonight." He said with a significant glance at the young man.   
  
"What exactly do they do?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.  
  
"It's really impossible to say, precisely." He admitted, "Each chrono is unique in its reactions to its owner. Most people have normal nightmares..."  
  
"And I don't." Harry continued heavily.  
  
"No, you do not. And I suppose that he just has to work a little harder, and find a different way to protect you." He sighed, rubbing at his eyes wearily. "If I were even a mediocre occlumens I could help you. But as I am not..." He stood up, clasping Harry on the shoulder. "Just try and do what Professor Snape told you to every night before you go to bed, Harry. I know you don't like him, but he is rather brilliant." He smiled at the disbelieving look on Harry's face, and, after a final, comforting squeeze to his shoulder, moved off into the darkness to find his bunk.   
  
Harry lay awake, staring out of his bunk and to the window, which was showing sky, now water, now sky again. Okay, that was not a very good idea. Harry groaned and rolled over, placing his hand, the one that bore the Cord bracelet, on Durry. He didn't think he would sleep again for quite some time, but, as Durry began to purr again, and he heard the sleeping sounds of his roommates, he once again drifted off.  
  
He stood at helm, twirling it and laughing as the salted breeze tossed his messy hair away from his face. Sirius was standing at his side, a smile on his face, his hand on Harry's shoulder, his finger pointing the way. They were heading off to parts unknown, behind the sunrise and through the craters of the moon, the golden sails of their ship catching the stars as he voyaged far, far away.   
  
Harry woke up, for the first time in a very long time, with a smile.   
  
I know this one is kind of short, but, I thought this would be a good place to end it. Please, please, please, read and review. 


	6. Chapter 6: Atalaris

I do not own Harry Potter, and I dare anyone who wants to go up against J.K. Rowling's lawyers to say that they do.   
  
Chapter 6: Atalaris  
  
Harry found himself very hungry the next morning, and he was just finishing up his third piece of toast when Captain Joseph's voice boomed through their cabin, waking Ginny, who was not an early riser. She sat up with a start and looked around the cabin, as though expecting their intrepid captain to be there.   
  
"Attention passengers! In five minutes we will be submerging. It is therefore advised that you remain in your cabins unless you want to take a swim. As we will be diving to a depth of 300 fathoms, that would not be a good idea." He paused, then continued in a language that sounded vaguely like mermish.   
  
"Anyone know what he's saying?" Ron demanded, looking faintly green and picking at a bowl of congealing oatmeal.  
  
"Something about disembarking." Moody said sourly. He had not slept well the night before, and even his magic eye seemed sluggish as it rolled around.   
  
"Oh."  
  
The captain switched back to English, his voice emanating from all corners of the room. "Enjoy this portion of the trip, the views are spectacular." Then silence reigned as all turned their heads towards the window. Tala clutched at Lupin's hand, breathing deeply in an attempt to stave off panic, while Hermione and Ginny, still in her dressing gown, rushed over to take seats by the window.  
  
"I can't wait!" Hermione said breathlessly. "It will be fascinating to observe the ocean life, maybe we'll see whales."  
  
"Or sharks." Ron muttered.   
  
"And dolphins."  
  
"Or man eating squid."   
  
Hermione glared at Ron, though her gaze softened when she saw how green he looked. "Maybe you should go back to sleep."  
  
"Nah, I want to be awake when we're eaten by lion-toothed deep sea monsters." He gulped. "See it coming, you know."  
  
Hermione twisted to look at Professor Lupin. "Is there really anything to be worried about?"  
  
Lupin raked his had through his sandy, graying hair. "Well, what with how fast we're moving..." He looked at Tala, who had let out a little moan. "Er...I'd say..." The coppery woman looked up at him with pleading eyes. "No, not really." He finished with a sigh.   
  
"Captain Joseph is quite capable of dealing with anything that attacks us." Moody said gruffly. Perhaps he was trying to be reassuring.   
  
"Attacks..." Tala whimpered. She buried her head in the werewolf's shoulder.   
  
"What I'm saying is, that he has never lost a ship or a passenger. We checked him out very thoroughly before we decided to use him for this voyage. He came highly recommended."   
  
"He's just a bit mad." Harry commented quietly, wondering if Joseph the pirate would remain on the helm as they submerged, reciting nautical poetry to the fishes.   
  
"Well, most of us are a bit mad, you know." Moody said with his horrific grin.   
  
This did nothing to reassure them.   
  
"In ten seconds." Joseph's voice echoed from every corner of the room. Ron gripped the arms of his chair, his face set as though he were getting ready to confront an army of giant spiders.   
  
"And here we go!" There was no mistaking the sound of excitement in Captain Joseph's voice.   
  
"Merlin..." Ron breathed. Harry couldn't help but agree with him. Now, instead of seeing alternating sky and surf, all there was was an endless view of water. Now, to Harry this wasn't so bad. It kind of reminded him of being under the lake at Hogwarts. The only thing about the ship that he did not like was the heavy rocking motion that impeded his movements and rolled his stomach. He moved forward and dragged a chair, moveable, but only consciously, to the window to join Hermione and Ginny.  
  
"Hey Harry," Ginny smiled, seemingly unconcerned that she was still in her dressing gown. "Grab me bit of toast, would you?" Harry twisted around obligingly and snagged a piece of the table, handing it to her with a grin.   
  
"Thanks." She said, taking it and beginning to chew. Her eyes were glued to the window before her, and her level of fascination made her brown eyes glow.   
  
Harry watched her as much as he watched the scene out the window. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing before how completely pretty she was, and how strong and smart, and now it was too late for him. He settled back in his chair with a sigh, tearing his eyes away from her before he could work himself up into a real funk. He didn't want to completely lose the good feeling that his second dream involving Sirius had left.   
  
He looked at Hermione and saw her watching him. She gave him a small, fortifying grin, then turned back to watching the waters. It wasn't long before a large dark shadow moved into view.   
  
"What's that?" Ron squeaked.  
  
"Can't tell." Hermione said, moving so close to the window that her nose was practically pressed up against it. The shadow moved closer and now they could make out a long neck with a small head, a huge body, a long tail and four huge flippers which it used to propel itself through the water. "Oh, my goodness! It's a plesiosaur! But those are supposed to be extinct."  
  
"What's a pleesysewer?" Ron asked.  
  
"It's supposed to be a dinosaur that lived underwater." Harry supplied, recalling the name from an almost forgotten science class.   
  
Just then, Captain Joseph's voice boomed again from all corners of the room, sounding oddly liquid now that they were underwater. "You may have noticed that we now have an escort. Chalmer here likes to trail along with me when we dive."  
  
"So it's not a pleesysir?" Ron said.   
  
"Muggles call it that." Lupin said suddenly, he walked up behind them and stood peering out over their shoulders. Harry looked back to find Tala and he spotted her in her bunk, sleeping soundly. Lupin noticed his glance. "A mild sleeping potion," He supplied. "She doesn't take well to sea travel, as you may have noticed." They chuckled wryly. It was impossible not to have noticed.   
  
"Anyway, that is a Desocant." He continued. "They usually live in lakes that have outlets to the ocean, preferring the warmer, calmer, waters at times, but needing the wider variety of wildlife that the ocean provides for their vast appetites. There is one in particular that drives the ministry up the wall. It lives in Loch Ness, I believe. An attention glutton." He shook his head. "There are quite a few of them, but they are usually elusive."   
  
The creature was matching their speed and angle of descent. Harry gulped as, once or twice, it curled its long neck back to peer at them curiously through the window with a surprisingly intelligent, liquid-dark eye.   
  
"It's beautiful." Ginny breathed. Harry had to tear his eyes away from her yet again.   
  
"It looks like we're leveling off," Harry commented about an hour later. Indeed they were, though when Harry looked out the window from where he was trying to tempt Ron into a game of exploding snap, he could see nothing. Ron was rather preoccupied with watching Ginny and Hermione play chess, and attempting to ignore that they were now underneath several hundred feet of water. He jumped when Captain Joseph's voice rolled again through the room.   
  
"He should make some sort of warning before he does that." He scowled.   
  
"We are now approaching Atalaris." The captain's voice was softer, almost awed. "This is a site that very few who do not live underwater have seen. It is magnificent."   
  
They looked at each other, then almost fled to the window, nearly squashing Lupin, who had been staring ruminatively out at the expanse of water.  
  
"Where is it?" "Do you see it?" "No, do you?" They all talked over one another, while Remus smiled and didn't seem to mind that they hadn't noticed him.   
  
Suddenly, Ginny squealed. "Look! Look!" They followed the direction of the girl's pointing finger and gasped. Captain Joseph had not been exaggerating.   
  
Below them and to starboard, which was the way their window was facing, was a city of glimmering light, stretching out as far as the eye could see. The buildings looked as though they had simply grown out of the ocean floor and were delicate and inscrutable. And all around them, moving among the buildings, or coming up to point and stare at their ship as they glided overhead, were merpeople. And these were more like, but not quite like, the mermaid that Harry had seen in the prefect's bathroom than the ones that Harry had met in Hogwart's lake. Most of them had long flowing hair, left loose or tied up with ornaments crafted from the same glowing material from which the buildings were made. Their faces were more human, and yet not, with wide golden eyes and pale green skin, so finely scaled that it wasn't noticeable unless they caught the light. Their tails were fish's tails, but in more colors than the rainbow, bright and flashing as they dove away or approached.   
  
The ship slowed, then came to a solid stop. The could hear the Captain's voice again, sounding more appropriate underwater as he spoke mermish to his other passengers. Then he switched to English again. "Our disembarking passengers would like to thank you for not being too loud on their voyage, and they, as representatives of the Merman/Human alliance, would like to wish you luck with the current surface troubles."   
  
They saw two merpeople, male and female, bright orange and silky green, swim past their window, waving as they moved down to join their people. They waved back, grinning, and saw an answering smile from the mermaid when she swam out of view.   
  
"And now," Captain Joseph announced, "As soon as we broach the surface we will be able to travel at normal speed. Our underwater passengers are sensitive to sudden jolts so as a courtesy we refrained during the first part of our voyage."  
  
"Bloody hell." Ron groaned.  
  
  
  
Harry could not recall a time when dry land had been quite so welcome. He, with great effort, to be sure, managed not to fall down and kiss the ground the moment they stepped off of the 'Ramien.' The second half of their journey had been a nightmare, and Lupin had to use liberal drafts of sleeping potion to keep Tala calm enough to weather it all. Harry had quickly wished for some sleeping potion as well, as the ship jerked and jumped, and now they were in the Gulf Stream, and a second later on the coast of Bermuda, then Greenland. Harry wasn't sure if there had been a method behind this madness or not, for, as far as he could tell, there were no other passengers now that the Mermish ambassadors had left. The few times that Harry had braved the deck he had kept a white-knuckled grip on the rail, and had to massage his hands for a quarter hour after fleeing below.   
  
"Laying trails." Moody grunted when Harry finally regained his stomach long enough to ask him. He had fought down a groan at that, but Captain Joseph seemed to enjoy it immensely, hopping to the Horn of Africa before finally taking them to Plymouth.   
  
Now they stood at the dock, which seemed oddly immobile after their time at sea, in the middle of the night as Moody had requested, and they were finally in America. Tala was nearly sobbing with relief, and the old wizard who came to greet them had to ask her is she was alright.   
  
"Fine, fine..." She replied with a tremulous smile, "The earth spirit just never intended me to be a naiad."   
  
The wizard nodded and patted her shoulder. Meanwhile, Joseph the pirate was saying his goodbyes to the group, shaking hands with Moody and Lupin. He moved to the girls and gave them each a kiss on the cheek, and even Tala blushed. He grinned at their reactions. "Nothing like a touch of sea air to make a pretty woman even more beautiful," He said gallantly. The girls giggled, Ron glared. "Harry, Ron," He said, turning to them, "It was a pleasure to have you on board, and I look forward to the return trip." He shook hands with them as well before swaggering off.   
  
"Return trip." Ron repeated with a gulp, he looked a bit green again.   
  
"At least we have a week before we have to hit the water again," Harry replied weakly.   
  
"Never would be too soon." Ron replied stubbornly.   
  
"Well, let's not worry about it yet," said Tala bravely, though she was still rather pale, she had recovered most of her poise. Then she continued, "I, personally, don't even want to think about it." The boys chuckled, and she continued. "We have a brief check in, then we're heading off. After a quick stop at the Assembly in Iowa, we'll be going to New Mexico." She turned to Lupin with a radiant smile. He returned it with a broad grin, and Harry could hear, as she leaned in to murmur in his ear. "Not much longer."   
  
Harry wasn't sure why his professor blushed when she said that.  
  
  
  
Please, please, please, Read and Review! 


	7. Chapter 7: The Assembly of United Magici...

I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 7: The Assembly of United Magicians  
  
After a final checkpoint, Harry marveled at all the extra security, they were ready to board the train that would take them to the Assembly of United Magicians, which was located in Iowa. This train was quite a bit like the one that took them to school each year. It was a huge red steam engine with many Pullman cars. The difference was that this train was also outfitted with sleeping compartments, a restaurant car, and several of the cars had been converted into lush offices. Tala had explained that since the United States was such a large country they often had to sleep, eat and do business on the train. Her father had his own car, currently at the station in New Mexico, which he used when he was on business for the ministry.   
  
Plymouth was a very busy starting off point for many travelers coming to the United States, and Harry could see, as he wandered off to take a better look, loaded down with varying degrees of luggage, almost a hundred witches and wizards wandering about.   
  
While he was looking around, waiting for Tala to return with their boarding passes, he was asked for directions by a harried looking witch in green robes and a lopsided orange hat, an old wizard in a checkered suit and a cloak decorated with silver suns and moons, and a young woman who had a crying child at her hip. He wasn't sure why they thought he knew his way around the place, so he pointed each of them to the information deck. The station was large and palatial, with marble columns holding up the palisade and wide steps leading up to the docks and down to the train platform. He could see people boarding busses which were painted orange, and, unlike the Knight Bus, were only one deck. In several places he saw launches for brooms and apparation points. In one section along the east wall, were a line of fireplaces, where, like in the Ministry of Magic, people were forming lines to leave, and others were appearing covered in soot and looking a little dazed. Another person approached him, and Harry, without thinking, lifted his arm to point at the Information Desk again. But this wizard did not speak to Harry, he merely looked closely at him, and Harry, realizing a moment late, hastily tried to smooth his hair down over his forehead.   
  
"Are you Harry Potter?" The young Wizard said loudly, and several people turned to stare at him. "The Harry Potter?"  
  
Harry couldn't see the point in denying it, so he nodded his head. The man rushed forward to shake his hand. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here in America, touring?"  
  
"No, I just..." He stammered.   
  
A crowd was now forming, and he heard whispers and exclamations. "Is it really him?" "The one who ended all that trouble over in England?" "Didn't you hear, You-know-who came back." "Are you here to get reinforcements, Mr. Potter?" "Best not ask the Session, it'll be ten years before they can make a decision whether or not to change their robes, let alone this." A rustle of laughter, and Harry found himself getting his hand shaken over and over. He looked desperately around for assistance.   
  
"Er...I mean...I really just..." He said, getting claustrophobic with the group now gathering in closer and closer.  
  
"Make way, coming through! Move it or I'll hex you! No, I'm not kidding." Moody was pushing his way through the crowd, causing several angry exclamations. He grabbed Harry's arm and towed away, his forbidding looks frightening off all but the most determined. "I thought I told you to stay with the group." He said angrily.  
  
"I just wanted to look around." Harry replied fretfully. The train was now coming back into view, his friends standing there with worried looks.  
  
"Didn't you stop to think that Voldemort just might have supporters here too?" Moody demanded. Harry hadn't thought, so he shook his head, chastened.  
  
"Harry, we were worried." Hermione said as they approached, Moody still with a death grip on Harry's arm.   
  
"I'm alright," He muttered.  
  
"Professor Lupin went off to look for you...oh, here he comes." Hermione continued, as the form of their former DADA professor emerged from the crowd, moving at a fast pace towards them.   
  
"I'm just glad that Harry's snake was transfigured, otherwise it might have attacked." Moody rumbled. Harry stared at him, he should have known that Moody's eye could see what was wrapped around his wrist. Did Moody think that he had acquired Cord for extra protection? "A little unorthodox, I admit, Harry, but it might come in handy if you keep it under control. Thinking outside the box is a good trait in an Auror." He grunted approvingly.  
  
"Snake," Ginny asked nervously, "What snake?" She had had a fear of the creatures ever since her ordeal in her first year at Hogwarts. Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes, suspecting that it wasn't as clear-cut as Moody assumed. Particularly since he had kept it from her.   
  
Harry looked at Ginny, then pulled back the sleeve of his robe to expose the Cord bracelet that Lupin had transfigured. "I call him Cord." He said, attempting to keep his tone light and nonchalant. "You don't have to worry," He continued, addressing his statement to the group so Ginny didn't think he was talking only to her. "I have him completely under control. I'll introduce you when the Professor changes him back." He glanced at Lupin, who was nodding slightly.  
  
Just then, Tala rejoined them. "Everyone ready?" She said, holding out their boarding passes. They all nodded and took them, though Ginny was still eyeing Harry's wrist apprehensively. They followed Tala onto the train, lugging their bags, brooms and various animal cages with them. She showed them their sleeping compartments, which were in divided boxcars, one for the boys, one for the girls, in one car, one for Moody, and one for Tala and Remus in the other.   
  
They were surprisingly spacious and even had two armchairs apiece aside from the beds, and a small table from which they could eat their meals and watch the scenery passing by. The dividers between the two spaces were plush burgundy velvet curtains and the blankets on the beds were monogrammed with the words "Assembly Express."   
  
"It won't take too long to get to The Assembly," Tala told them, "It's the only stop. We should be there in about ten hours." She smiled at them. "So try and keep yourselves occupied and get some sleep. After Iowa, we will be taking the train to Ambersville, then to broom for the short hop to the Facility. See you in a bit, I'm going to try and get some sleep and recover from that ghastly boat trip." She turned, then paused and looked over her shoulder, her hand on the door to the next car. "The restaurant car is three down, in case you're hungry." Then she slid the door open and disappeared through.  
  
They looked at each other and sighed.   
  
"How many games did we get in in five hours, do you think?" Ron asked Harry through a mouthful of Pumpkin Pasty. They had slept the other five.   
  
"Too many." Harry murmured, poking at a package labeled, 'Camplin's All Meal Bars.' He ripped one open and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as he contemplated the board.   
  
"Get a move on!" One of his knights yelled at him. He had named that one after Sir Cadogan. The flavor of a salad with Caesar dressing filled his mouth.   
  
"These things are odd," He said thickly, as the taste of warm, creamy lemon soup replaced the salad.   
  
"Let's have one." Ron said, and Harry tossed him another. He moved one of his rooks, and the knight groaned. 'Now we're done for.'   
  
"I could use a bit more support!" Harry grumped at him. He now seemed to be chewing a piece of delicately and perfectly cooked filet mignon.   
  
"Hmm..." Ron said thoughtfully as he chewed, "So, that's what that lobster bisque we had in fourth year tasted like. I should've had some." Harry chuckled.   
  
"How are Fleur and Bill getting along?" He asked, as he finished up the bar with a spectacular bit of chocolate cream pie.   
  
"Swimmingly." Ron replied. "They've moved in together, which mum doesn't like, but they're planning to get married, which she does like. She has Fleur in a right state with meddling in wedding plans. And she keeps tearing up and talking in an undertone about all her babies growing up and having babies of their own."   
  
"Sounds like fun."  
  
"Nerve racking is more like." Ron stated, making a move on the board that made all his pieces murmur appreciatively.   
  
Harry tried to concentrate on the board, half-listening to the advice his intrepid knight was giving him. He and Ron had had a mild confrontation with Hermione earlier over his keeping Cord a secret. She had castigated Ron for not telling her, and Harry for taking the snake in the first place, for she had dragged the entire story out of him. Ron had gotten very red in the face and for once, hadn't been able to come up with an argument in his defense. When Hermione had stormed off, he went after her, and returned a while later with a disgruntled look on his face. Harry decided not to press him for details on the incident. He hoped that the two of them would work things out. He was glad that they seemed on the road to couple-dom, but with how bumpy that road was, he also hoped that they would survive.   
  
Tala and Lupin seemed to have things right, they supported each other, and, while their arguments could be explosive, Harry had seen but one, they were quickly over and everything soon went back to normal.   
  
Tala had been acting secretive ever since they had gotten off the boat, and he wondered if they had a surprise in store for him and the others. She would make allusions to it not being long now, and Harry didn't think she was referring to arriving in Iowa or New Mexico. Lupin was acting a little strangely as well, talking about a big day ahead, and grinning while turning a bit red along the cheekbones.   
  
He decided to bring it up to Ron and found that he hadn't even had a clue that something was going on besides the trip. Just then, he heard Hermione make that, oh, so familiar, tutting noise behind him.   
  
"Well, going to clue an apparently clueless boy in?" He asked her, twisting around to see her pulling back the curtains.  
  
"Why should I?" she said stubbornly. "I mean, it's not like you tell ME anything."  
  
Harry scratched his head, while Ron kept his eyes on the board, his mouth in a line. "I told you I was sorry, Hermione." He said. "Forgive me?" He looked at her in a deliberately overdone, pleading manner.  
  
She tried to keep her disapproving expression, but Harry could see a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.   
  
"Oh, just tell him, Hermione," Ginny said suddenly, appearing at her shoulder and winking at Harry, "With those puppy-dog eyes he's giving you I'm surprised you haven't buckled already. Tell him or I will."   
  
Harry grinned at her, he liked her mischievous side. "You heard the lady, Hermione."   
  
"Oh, fine." Hermione moved over and perched herself on the arm of Ron's chair. "They haven't said as much, but I'm suspecting they are going to New Mexico to get married."  
  
"Married!" Ron yelped, forgetting to pretend that he wasn't listening. "Why didn't they just tell us?"   
  
Hermione shrugged, "Maybe it's a wolf thing." Ron grimaced at her. "Don't look at me like that," She said crossly, shoving him in the shoulder. "It's either that, or they're not sure that they CAN get married, so they wanted to wait to tell us until they were sure."   
  
"Why wouldn't they be able to?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, I was reading a book on werewolves, and it had a section on marriage legislation. It gives the right of dissolution to the spouse of anyone who gets lycanthropy. And it also had a brief blurb about needing the signature of a certified expert on the condition on the marriage license in order for the union to be legal." Hermione frowned terribly. "They apparently didn't think that that it would be used very often."  
  
"That's awful," Harry scowled, "Having to get permission. No wonder Lupin was so put out by the check-in he had to do before we left England."  
  
"And guess who wrote the law." Harry stared at her, realization dawning. "Yes, Umbridge."  
  
"That..." Ron spluttered, lost for words.  
  
"Well, it's no wonder he hates her, then," Ginny commented wryly. She had moved to sit cross-legged on Harry's bed. "I would hate anyone who forced me to get permission to like someone and want to marry them. Plus, didn't she draft that legislation that makes it nearly impossible for him to find work?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione nodded, "You should hear Tala expounding on the subject sometime. She's been fighting for werewolf rights since she was old enough to speak, I think."   
  
Ginny had been staring at the chess board. She leaned over and whispered to Harry, "He'll have you check-mated in two moves."  
  
"See! See!" His knight howled. Harry groaned and buried his face in his arms.   
  
He was saved from humiliating defeat by a disembodied voice that echoed through the cabin, "We are now approaching the Assembly of United Magicians. Please make sure that you collect all your belongings and prepare to disembark."   
  
Harry leaned past Ron to look out the window.   
  
"What do you see?" Ginny asked.   
  
"Looks like corn." He replied.   
  
"That's it?" Ron peering out as well, "Oh, wait, I think I see something." They were rounding a slow bend. "Looks like a mountain." A moment later. "Looks like we're going inside." It got dark in the cabin and the lanterns flashed on.  
  
"Welcome to the Assembly of United Magicians," The voice echoed. "We will be disembarking shortly."  
  
"Are there supposed to be mountains in Iowa?" Harry asked Hermione.  
  
"Not to the best of my knowledge." She said with a raised eyebrow. "But I've read that the Assembly is supposed to be huge, as it incorporates both the wizards of the east coast and the wizards of the west coast, who have historically been separated into contending factions. The Assembly was only built about a hundred years ago, when they decided they should share their knowledge instead of keeping it to themselves." Trust Hermione's encyclopedic knowledge of all things magical.   
  
Just then Lupin entered, fully dressed in his best robes, blue and silver, which Tala had purchased on his behalf, and with his case in his hand. He looked very serious. "You can leave everything here, as we'll be taking this train on to Ambersville. This should not take too long." He led them down the steps to where Tala and Moody were waiting. "I'm going to make a short speech to the Session, to prepare them for another group who is going to come and try and further preparations in the States against Voldemort." He continued, outlining what he was going to say, but the young people were barely listening, even Hermione, who always paid attention.  
  
It was massive. It was, as Ron had put it, a veritable mountain. The part that they were in was open to the very top and they could see floor upon floor of offices surrounding it on all sides, most with wizards and wizards busily rushing around. At the front desk, which was fully twenty feet around, they surrendered their wands for checking, and Lupin spoke briefly to the wizard who was checking them in. The old man nodded and scribbled on a piece of paper, which he tapped once with his wand, saying, "Session Office," and set it at the mouth of a tube behind him. It rushed away. They were given back their wands, and they walked off, following Tala, who knew the way, their feet adding to the clatter on the highly polished wooden floors, and their eyes trying to see every which way at once. Everything was polished dark wood, gleaming marble and gilding, gargoyles peered at them from every shadowed corner and every fifty feet there was a fountain, each showing a mystical creature in motion and adding more noise to the clamoring air.   
  
A few of the Assembly members recognized Tala and hailed her briefly. She nodded to each of them, adding a dazzling smile, before letting them know she was in a hurry. The people that greeted her were as varied as Harry had seen at the world cup, some dressed in buckskin, with coppery faces like hers, some of Asian descent, with silk robes in colorful hues and soft slippers, Scandinavian, blond and tall, African, who favored the conical, flat-topped hats and striped colorful robes. It seemed every nation's wizarding community was represented here.   
  
There were many doors leading off of this, the main chamber, staircases, some of them moving like the ones in Hogwarts, and various lifts. A few people, particularly those who had offices on the top floors, just Apparated rather than facing the climb. And those parts of the walls that didn't contain doors were occupied with pictures of famous witches and wizards. Harry even saw a portrait of Dumbledore on one of the walls. The painting gave him a wink, then disappeared into the side of his frame.  
  
Harry wondered what Dumbledore was up to at the moment. He had received a few letters from him over the summer, but the old wizard was still secretive over his activities. Harry understood a little better this year, and, though he still wished that Dumbledore would be completely honest with him, he was glad he could at least look him in the eye again.   
  
He snapped back to attention as the group stopped in front of a pair of doors, intricately carved with spiraling patterns, with the entire solar system raised and gilded. Remus took a deep breath, and pushed them open. The room they reveled was a circular amphitheater, the lower tiers filled with witches and wizards in formal robes. But in this room, unlike the rest of the building, the occupants were all Americans. As this was the American Session, this was to be expected. But when Harry looked up, he saw many other magicians from many other nations, filtering in and leaning over the rails expectantly. Tala gave Remus a kiss on the cheek, then led the others into seats in the back row, where they could watch.   
  
A quiet sort of pride filled Harry as he watched Professor Lupin stride confidently down the aisle between the seats, the assembled falling into silence when he assumed the podium. He knew that this must be an effort for Lupin, who was a private man by nature. He glanced at Tala, who was gazing down at him, the same pride that Harry was feeling shining from her intent face.   
  
A tall and venerable looking wizard with long sweeping brown hair stood, his golden robes shimmering in the lights of the lamps, and even those few who were still murmuring fell silent. "We have the great pleasure of welcoming you here today, Professor Lupin, and I assure you we will listen to your words with great attention." He looked around at the assemblage, "We have called Session today to address the issue of one Lord Voldemort," Harry saw a few people flinch. "There are few here that do not remember the terror that, for thirteen years, this one dark wizard wrought on the country of England. And even as he was thrown down, now proven temporarily, he was developing support in other countries, sadly, including our own. Now we have been given proof that he has regained his power, and is once again seeking followers to continue his evil work. We must listen carefully, and judge our hearts, and hopefully come to a conclusion that we should not make the mistake of once again waiting too long." He sat down to tumultuous applause.  
  
Professor Lupin cleared his throat. "I thank you for your kind introduction, President Godfreight. And I will try to keep my remarks brief, as I will soon be journeying on to New Mexico." He paused, and smiled directly up at where those who had accompanied him from England were sitting. "To marry one of your own, a Miss Tala Snowfoot." There was scattered applause and murmuring, and Harry saw Tala stifle back a choked laugh. "She has great pride in you as a governing organization and as a country, and from her tales, I hope to share her pride."   
  
He turned back to the Session. "I have come here today, to assure you that it is indeed true that Voldemort has returned, and, even in his return, he has added to the lives he had taken and destroyed. I am here to assure you that, even now, we are readying ourselves for a battle to prevent the taking of more. And I am here to implore you to steel yourselves, and lend us aid before the infection that is the trademark of Lord Voldemort, destroys our country, then moves on. For he will, you can be assured that he will. As he is allowed to gain in power and influence, he will spread it. How can we allow this? Have not enough lives have been lost? Have we not sacrificed enough? The list of those who have fallen before the influence of Voldemort is extensive, The McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts..." He continued on, naming name after name. Some Harry had known of, many more that he had not. Harry felt his throat tighten and he had to swallow a sob. "Benjy Fedwick, Caradoc Dearborn," He had seen the faces of these people, knew the remainders of these broken families, "...the Potters, and only their son Harry, whom I am sure you know the story of, remains of that great, old family.   
  
"His supporters tortured the Longbottoms into insanity even after his powers had been broken and he had fled. He killed a witch after breaking her mind, Bertha Jorkins. And on the night of his return he murdered a young man, a fine young man whom I once had the pleasure of teaching," A muscle worked along his jaw, "for simply being unnecessary. Cedric Diggory, remember Cedric. The members of the Hogwarts school have made it a saying, a motto, to steel themselves against Voldemort. Students, children, already under Voldemort's shadow. Remember Cedric.   
  
"And even in the past few months we lost a very dear friend of mine, whose life had been torn apart by Voldemort before his temporary defeat, and was just beginning to mend when he was murdered by his own cousin. Family and friends have no meaning to those who follow Voldemort. Make your name a reality, stand united with us, and we will stand against this threat to our entire world. Remember this, remember those names, remember Cedric."   
  
Harry was finally able to turn his eyes away from his professor, and he looked around. Hermione was quietly weeping, and Ron, whose face was very pale, had his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. Tala had tears running down her face, her tilted green eyes still fastened upon her soon-to-be husband. Ginny was shaking beside him, and he, without thinking, reached over and squeezed her hand, she looked at him, her eyes filled with tears, then grabbed his fingers in her own, holding tight as though gathering strength from the contact. Harry could see tear-shining eyes in every tier, faces set in grim lines. A few of the witches and wizards were weeping openly.   
  
Lupin had only one more statement to make, simple so as not to take away from the main message. "I thank you for your time." The entire session, and even the wizards and witches in the viewing balcony, rose to their feet as one in a sign of silent respect as Lupin made his way back down the aisle, gathering his group as he strode out the door.   
  
"Oh, Remus." Tala said tearfully, before embracing him and holding him tightly. He looked exhausted.  
  
"Professor?" Harry said timidly. Lupin looked at him questioningly. "Well done, sir." Ginny nodded beside him, still holding his hand. 


	8. Chapter 8: Homecoming

I do not own Harry Potter. I do, however, own the story and all the original characters, whom I am very fond of.  
  
Chapter 8: Homecoming  
  
Harry woke with a start, for a moment unable to remember where he was. The train jolted again and he relaxed, closing his eyes for a moment before getting out of his bed and moving to the chair at the window. He didn't feel remotely tired, even though the first lights of dawn were just tinting the sky. He figured he could thank Durry for that, gathering him up from where he was sleeping on the table and leaning back, watching the seemingly endless terrain of North America roll by the window. He wondered where exactly they were. Tala had commented, when she was able to speak, that they should arrive in Ambersville in mid-morning. He thought then, that they may already be in New Mexico.   
  
He sat there, and he thought about, as he had thought many times the night before, of the speech that Lupin had made the day previous. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then turned and rummaged in his robes, which he had flung over the chair when he had undressed for bed. Finally, he came up with the picture of the original order. He was still looking at it when Ron awoke, rumpled and yawning, with the sun still young in the sky. Harry hurriedly stowed the picture back out of view, put Durry gently on the seat of the empty chair, and joined his friend in throwing on his robes and making their way to the restaurant car.   
  
The car was filled with round wooden tables and chattering, and sometimes yawning, witches and wizards. There were windows lining both sides of the car, and the light filtering in, painted long shadows on the faces and the floors. The walls and carpets were warm and dark red, making it a pleasant atmosphere in which to dine. A wizard in an orange uniform approached and handed them menus, and the two of them perused them briefly before ordering. Ron decided to try the waffles with blueberry sauce, while Harry went for eggs, bacon and toast. The wizard bowed and waved his wand over the table, and their orders appeared with a pop.   
  
"Enjoy your breakfast, sirs. My name is Eric, just call if you need more." Then he wandered off to help another set of diners, two young witches with odd colored hair, one with shocking purple and green plaits and the other with a pale blue French braid.   
  
"That one looks like Tonks on a day she's feeling crazy." Ron murmured to Harry. "Wonder if it was a transfiguration gone mad, or on purpose."  
  
Harry shrugged. Aside from the two witches, the other passengers of this train looked fairly normal, to his standards. He could easily see them dining in Diagon Alley. He caught someone glancing casually at his table and self-consciously smoothed down his hair over his forehead before busying himself with his eggs.   
  
"Morning Harry, Ron." Harry looked up as Hermione and Ginny joined them, two more chairs appearing for them, and the table growing a bit larger. "Who's our server?" Hermione asked.   
  
"Eric." Ron answered through a mouthful of waffles. And the man appeared at the table, a large smile on his young, open face.   
  
He distributed menus to the girls, and they also ordered, French toast and pancakes, and Eric bowed, then disappeared again.   
  
Harry watched Ginny from the corner of his eye as they ate, his thoughts more on her than on his food. They hadn't said anything to each other since he had taken her hand the night before. They hadn't let go until they were again on the train, and even then no words were said. Ginny, he remembered, had looked up at him with an almost studying gaze, then she had smiled softly before letting her hand slip from his. He had tried to speak, but the words clogged in his throat.   
  
He wished that he had been brave enough to bend his head and give her a little kiss, and yet he was worried that had he done such a thing, it would have ruined their relationship. He tried to think as Hermione would have told him to. Maybe she was waiting for him to make another move, but what if she wasn't? What if he was wrong? He didn't know anything about this sort of thing, as evidenced by the disastrous relationship with Cho of the year before. Ron called Eric back and ordered more waffles.   
  
Hermione watched him in disgusted amusement as he shoveled them in his mouth. "Honestly, Ron. How do you breathe?"  
  
He grinned at her, showing blue-stained teeth, and she laughed fondly. They had made up the day before, she walking close to him as they made their way back to the train. He with his arm around her shoulders, offering her his handkerchief to dry her face. He had caught them exchanging a quick kiss when they thought no one was watching. He heaved a sigh, and picked at the rest of his breakfast.   
  
"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Ginny asked, and he saw that she was genuinely concerned. This made him feel warmed.   
  
"Yes, Ginny." He returned. "I'm fine." She smiled at him, her eyes locked upon his, and he found himself looking down and blushing. He could swear he heard her giggle.   
  
"Last stop, Ambersville. Last stop. Please gather any belongings you wish to keep and prepare to disembark." Harry gathered up his bag and his broom, deciding to let Durry remain out of his box, and ride upon his shoulder. Hedwig squalled in her cage, and he fed her an owl treat to calm her. "As soon as we take to broom, I'll let you out." He assured the snowy white. She had been acting rather coldly to him since he had acquired Cord, refusing to come near Harry as long as he had the snake wrapped around his wrist, and now, even with the snake transfigured, she looked at him with cool, golden eyes. "I'm sorry Hedwig." He said quietly. "Try to understand?" She seemed undecided, but finally gave a soft hoot and allowed him to stroke her feathery head through the bars. He grinned happily at her. "As soon as we get in the air." He told her again.   
  
"Everyone set?" Lupin asked as the adults emerged from Hermione and Ginny's side of the car, they and Ron trailing along after them. Harry put his beloved Firebolt over his shoulder and nodded, then they stepped off the train into the hot, New Mexican sun.   
  
"So hot." Ron gasped, as he loosened the neck of his robes. Harry had to agree, and he was glad his robes were fairly light, and that he had packed his cloak away. He would obviously not be needing it. Ginny was pulling her hair up off of her neck and securing it with a twisted bit of cord that automatically tightened to bind it.   
  
"Ah, nice to be back." Tala said comfortably. She, unlike the others was used to this, Harry thought. "The launch is that way." She pointed out a patch of sandy soil that had been cleared of vegetation. They trooped after her, peering around. The Ambersville station was nearly as busy as the one at Plymouth and with good reason. Ambersville was the largest fully wizarding town in the United States. Hundreds of them lived and worked there. They could see the American branch of Gringotts gleaming in the distance, it easily being the tallest building there. The rest of the buildings were largely built of adobe, and brick with tiled roofs, low and warm looking in the hot sun. They could see mountains looming darkly in the distance of the west, and there was a large lake gleaming, silver and still, to the south. He wished they could stay and explore a bit, but he could tell that Tala was eager to get home.  
  
He watched the other wizards in the short trek from the train, and smiled at a little witch who squealed in delight as she was swung up onto the shoulders of her returning father. There were greetings and claps on the back, and a few solitary travelers wandered off in the direction of main street, or to light colored stagecoaches if they were traveling farther. They got few looks as they reached the launch, this was obviously a common occurrence.   
  
Harry, as he had assured Hedwig he would, released the latch on her cage, and the owl flew out, Durry following her briefly in a large circle around their heads, before he settled back down on Harry's shoulder and curled his arms around his neck. Harry patted him, then mounted his broom. He settled his bag more securely over his shoulder and across his chest, waiting as Ron secured Pig's cage to his Cleansweep.   
  
"Next stop, Stepenwolv!" Tala called at them, taking the lead as they rose, while Lupin circled them and Moody took the rear guard. They soared out over the town of Ambersville, heading to the mountains. Harry looked down, as Durry fluttered his wings in the wind pushing at his face. The town sprawled out beneath them, the streets meandering crookedly among the buildings, which were even more varied than he had thought, though still Gringotts towered over the rest. He wondered how such a large town of wizards could exist without the muggles finding out about it. They moved higher, and the town began to blend into the earth, by the time they had left it behind, it had vanished, even the marble of Gringotts no longer visible behind them.   
  
It took longer than Harry had expected it would to reach the mountains, which looked so large even from a distance. They swooped around the peaks, through forests and past waterfalls, and Harry noticed that the temperature seemed to drop the further they went. Harry grinned around, and was pleased to see that even Hermione was sufficiently distracted by the scenery so that she didn't have her hands clutched around her broom as though expecting to fall off at any moment.   
  
Harry thought it beautiful but also thought he knew why Stepenwolv Facility was so out of the way from pretty much everything. He wondered what it felt like to be so shunned by society that he couldn't even find work, let alone walk down a street without people drawing back. He, himself, hadn't had any set prejudices concerning werewolves, but he recalled the way Ron had drawn back from Lupin when he had found out, the words 'Get away from me, werewolf ' spilling from his mouth.   
  
He also recalled the look on Lupin's face when he had heard his student, one who had liked him, spit hurtful words at him, just because he had learned the truth of his Professor's condition. The two of them had never spoken of it again, though, and Harry thought Lupin had put it out of his mind. Ron, however, felt bad about it for a long time afterwards, and he had expressed his regret to Harry that Lupin had left before he could apologize. If he sometimes seemed awkward around the werewolf, it was because he was trying to put learned prejudices behind him. He liked Lupin, though, and respected him immensely.  
  
Harry grinned at his former professor as he made another loop around them, and got a smile and wave in return. He too, liked Lupin and respected him. He was a link to his parents and a link to Sirius, and even more, he was just himself, always with a kind word and a mild smile. If he seemed reserved it was because all his life he had had to live with his terrible condition, and had had to keep his distance from those who would not understand. But Harry knew the other side of him as well, the one who had helped to write the Marauder's Map and had been one of the major rule-breakers in his time at school.   
  
Harry was very glad that his professor had found Tala. He watched her flying ahead of him, her long, dark hair flowing behind her like a banner. They obviously loved each other deeply and accepted each other for who they were.   
  
He was certain that Lupin still felt the loss of James and Sirius deeply, one lost recently and one lost long ago, but his best friends in all the world. He had lived a very lonely life, but now he didn't have to be on his own anymore.   
  
Harry knew what it was like to be lonely. He was famous, he had two very best friends, and various others. But still it was lonely. He often thought that no one quite understood the reason or thought that he felt that way at all. He was alone with a heavy burden, one he could not share with anyone, not even those closest to him. Dumbledore might understand, and Lupin might understand. Two people in the whole wide world. He was suddenly overcome with a great affection for his professor, one of the same kind he had had for Sirius.   
  
He was startled as Ginny called up to him. They had been descending, but he had been so lost in his thoughts that the time had passed by in what seemed to have been minutes. Turning very red, he turned his Firebolt towards the ground and, with its superior acceleration, quickly caught up. Lupin caught his eye and nodded, with a small smile. Harry grinned embarrassedly as he rejoined them, drawing his attention back to their surroundings. They had just emerged from between two low peaks, and were coming down into a huge green and cool valley, it was about three times as long as it was wide, and a small river ran through the middle, originating from a waterfall at the north end. A forest covered the half to the east, and Harry could see houses nestled among the trees. The other half was cleared, with a few more houses, mostly log, small subsistence gardens and various livestock. And at the south end of the valley was the unmistakable form of the Stepenwolv Research Facility, built sturdily in stone and roofed with slate, reinforced on all sides, a necessary thing for a place where one dealt with something as potentially volatile as potions.   
  
As they came lower, Harry could see a young boy standing on a raft near the edge of the river, shading his eyes as he peered up at them. He quickly rowed to shore and darted off in the direction of one of the houses at the edge of the woods, gesturing excitedly. A woman emerged and peered up as well, after a moment, she waved and turned back inside. No one else seemed to have noticed that they were arriving, and they came to a smooth landing at the edge of one of the cleared spaces. Tala was smiling uncertainly, looking around as though she had expected someone to come out and meet them. "Well," She said finally, "We're here. Let's head up to the Facility." She ushered them in the right direction, and they made their way over the smooth lawn.   
  
Harry, too, was wondering where everyone was. He turned to Tala, but just as he did, he saw a gray blur out of the corner of his eye. It flew past him, and launched itself at Tala, knocking the tall woman to the ground. It stood on her chest, growling horribly, and Lupin whipped out his wand, prepared to drive it off.   
  
"Remus, no!" She cried, punching the wolf in the side, and rolling out from under it, gaining her feet. She was scowling. The wolf circled her, and crouched low, panting. "Tainn, you nut!" She yelled at it, and the wolf laid back its ears, then barked, puppy-like, bowing low on its forelegs in a 'come play' gesture. Its tail wagged furiously. It bounced around her invitingly, its mouth open in a canine grin. "Not now." Tala said in a low voice, glancing around at the others.   
  
Lupin was still staring at her, his wand held loosely at his side. "Do you, er...know each other?"   
  
Tala sighed as though terribly put upon. "Yes, indeed, we do." The wolf looked disgruntled that Tala wasn't going to play with him, he sat down on his haunches and whined. "Everyone, this is my nephew, Tainn." They looked at her, then at the wolf, who was regarding them curiously.  
  
There was a faint pop and with a shimmer, the wolf transformed into a young man with long black hair and Tala's green eyes. He was dressed in a pair of well-worn blue jeans and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose very tanned sinewy forearms. His feet were bare. He grinned, the expression giving him an almost feral look.   
  
"What's the matter, Aunt Tally? Too old for a romp with your favorite nephew?" He had a deep voice, seeming odd with his whipcord thin frame.   
  
Tala seemed to be trying to tell him something with her eyes. And only Harry, Lupin, and, he was sure, Moody, knew why she didn't want to race off to play with her nephew. "Don't call me that." She said furiously. "And haven't you noticed we have guests?"  
  
He looked at them as though seeing them for the first time, "Why, no, I didn't! How very unobservant of me!" He gave a short bow, "I am Tainn Snowfoot, a bane to my Aunt's existence. And I'm very offended that she doesn't want to change..." He stopped, as though listening to something no one else could hear. "...her mind." He finished, his eyes narrowed.   
  
Harry stepped forward, offering his hand. "I'm Harry," he said.  
  
"Pleased to meet you Harry," He replied, glancing up at Harry's forehead for a moment before shaking his hand.  
  
"Ron Weasley." The also shook hands.  
  
"Hermione Granger." She looked flustered as he kissed her hand.   
  
"Ginny Weasley." She laughed as he performed the same greeting for her.   
  
"Alastor Moody." He clumped forward, "Most call me Mad-eye."  
  
"Can't imagine why. Can I call you Al?" Moody scowled, and was surely going to tell him that under no circumstances was he to call him Al, when Tainn turned to Professor Lupin.  
  
"And you must be Remus Lupin." He said, folding his arms, and looking at him with his eyebrow raised and a scowl. Remus looked back at him, matching his stance and expression.  
  
"Tainn." Tala said warningly. And he glanced at her ferociously before letting out a howl of laughter.   
  
"What'd you think I was going to do, bite him?" He unfolded his arms and leapt forward, catching the startled werewolf in a bear hug. "Pleased to meet you, Uncle Loopy!"   
  
Ron was staring at the man as though he were a complete nutter, while Harry doubled over in laughter.  
  
Remus looked over Tainn's shoulder. "Are they all like this?" he mouthed at Tala.  
  
"You have no idea." She said resignedly. Tainn released Lupin with a last squeeze before turning to Tala and sweeping her into a hug and completely off of her feet. "Put me down, young man!" He obliged.   
  
"I'll race on ahead and let them know you're here." He totted off a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder, breaking into a feral grin. Tala looked frightened.  
  
"Tainn!" She desperately, "Don't you even think about it!"   
  
"Tally..." He began, breaking into a run.   
  
"Don't you dare! I can still tan your hide, you know!" She practically screeched.  
  
"Hoooooo!" His voice faded into a wolf's howl as he changed and raced away.  
  
"Oh, gods." She moaned, burying her head in her hands. She looked at Lupin. "Welcome to the family." She said with a weak attempt at a smile.   
  
He grinned and swept her into a hug, just as her nephew had, but this time she didn't protest. "I think we'll be just fine." He assured her.   
  
  
  
Please review. Encouragement is always welcome, as are suggestions and questions. 


	9. Chapter 9: Stepenwolv

I do not own Harry Potter. That distinct honor goes to one J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 9: Stepenwolv  
  
They did not go far before encountering another member of Tala's family. She was standing on a bench, tying a ribbon to the branch of a twisting tree. She looked at them all. The resemblance was only noticeable in the emerald green eyes. Otherwise, she looked nothing like her aunt. She looked to be in her late teens and had dark blond hair and a pale complexion. Her face was heart shaped and her nose small and fine. She did, however, share the radiant smile of her aunt. She jumped down from the bench, her soft yellow robes billowing as she ran to greet her Aunt.   
  
"Texi, sweetheart." Tala embraced her with a return smile, looking into her eyes. She kept her arms around the young woman's shoulders when she turned to make introductions. "Everyone, this is Mitexi my niece." She smiled at them all, shaking hands when each was introduced to each other. Harry assumed that she was shy when she didn't say anything to them. When Tala came to Lupin, Mitexi looked at him appraisingly, then reached out to hug him. She pulled back and looked into his eyes, and his expression became startled.   
  
"I'm very pleased to meet you, too." He said, examining her as though she were a puzzle needing to be solved.   
  
"Texi," Tala said, and her niece turned to look at her. "Would you show them the facility? I want to take Remus to meet mom and dad." Texi nodded, and gestured them all to follow her, catching each of their eyes.   
  
Moody demurred the tour, saying he wanted to check out their safety precautions. Texi nodded again, watching his eye swivel around curiously.  
  
She didn't speak until they had headed off in a different direction, her back to them as she led the way. "I'm very glad to meet you all." She commented, her voice soft and sweet. "Tell me," She said seriously, "about Remus?"  
  
"He's a great guy." Harry answered immediately. "An excellent teacher."  
  
"Yes, he was the best teacher we ever had." Ron added.   
  
Texi glanced over her shoulder at them in amusement, before looking ahead at the large stone building they were approaching. "No, tell me about HIM."  
  
"He's very kind," Hermione said after a moment, "He is very patient and gentle. He'll always listen to you if you have a question and will answer as honestly as he can. He's also very proud," She continued. "and is very respected by those who know him."  
  
"He's brave, too." Ginny interjected, "He's not afraid to do what is right, even if it's dangerous, as long as it may help someone else."  
  
"He's forgiving, as well. And he knows when you don't really mean something you say without thinking." Ron said quietly. "And he is very loyal to his friends."   
  
"Then I am happy." Texi said, and somehow everyone knew that she was exactly that. "Aunt Tala deserves someone like that." They heard a quiet chuckle. "Did you know that she once fell in love with a picture?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.   
  
She glanced at him again, green eyes meeting green. "We get files from all around the world, about werewolves. They want to know when we make a new discovery, you see. Well, Tala was looking through them one day, before I was born, even, and saw the picture of a young werewolf from England, smiling up at her shyly." She smiled warmly at them, before leading them on. "She loves to tell the story. How she fell in love with him, and spent her years looking for a cure and looking for him."  
  
"Did she ever find him?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Yes, she did." Mitexi said. "She loved him, and she still does."  
  
"And he loves her too." Hermione replied. The boys looked at her. "Well, isn't it obvious who she's talking about?" She said in exasperation.   
  
Mitexi laughed, a musical sound, as the boys went 'oh,' and Ginny looked embarrassed for not figuring it out.   
  
"Hello, Texi." Someone called to her and they glanced over, seeing a thin young man with black hair, sallow skin and a hooked nose. Harry had to do a double take to be sure that he wasn't seeing a young Severus Snape. But then he caught the young man's eyes, and they were deep, midnight blue, open and friendly. He swept over, even walking the same, his dark red, almost black, robes floating behind him, and gave the young woman a kiss, then looked at the rest of them curiously, his arm slung around her waist.   
  
"Everyone, this is Sarven." She said with a little blush. It took Harry a second to realize why everyone was staring at her, he was too occupied with staring at Sarven. Then his brow furrowed. Her mouth hadn't moved. In fact, he would have been surprised if it had moved during their entire conversation, realizing that she had been facing away from them each time she had spoken.   
  
Sarven nodded at each of them, saying their names in a smooth voice. They kept staring at Mitexi. Finally, Sarven turned to her as well. He examined her for a moment before speaking disapprovingly. "Texi, not again." She flushed deeply and stared down at her clasped hands, twisting them self-consciously in her light robes, but she was smiling.  
  
"I was seeing how long it would take for one of them to notice." She said quietly, her mouth still.   
  
He sighed in a long-suffering way and looked up at them. "Texi is mute. She hasn't been able to say a word since, well, since she was thirteen."   
  
"I've never heard of such advanced Legillimency." Hermione commented, impressed.   
  
"She did take it to an unheard of level." Sarven agreed. "She is able to project her words into people's minds. She doesn't even need to maintain eye contact to keep up the link. Just a brief catching of the eye is enough for her. She is a master."   
  
"Stop talking about me as though I'm not here." She said crossly, and Sarven looked away briefly to conceal his small smile.   
  
"May I ask what happened?" Ginny inquired as Mitexi gestured and they followed her again.   
  
Texi froze for a moment before glancing at her, "It was an accident." She said, and Harry could feel remembered terror and sorrow in the thought. "Mother was trying to develop a new potion and something went wrong."  
  
The Facility was in the very middle of a large cleared area, the windows were small and resembled arrowslits, giving the stone building the appearance of a fortress. They came to the large, thick steel doors, and Sarven pushed them open. The hall was large and dim, the walls and floors all made of the same pale granite, but for the end, which was a brightly lit wood paneled with halls leading to the left and right. There, surrounded by candles, was a life-sized portrait of a lovely young woman dressed in a long, pale violet gown hanging in an ornate gilded frame. Her hair was light brown, her face heart-shaped and pale. Her eyes were brown and large, looking down at them as they approached. But for this, the painting could have been of Mitexi. Beneath the painting was a polished brass plaque, inscribed with the words; 'Marianne Stepenwolv-Snowfoot, Financier of Stepenwolv Research Facility.'   
  
"My mother." Texi said, staring up at her.   
  
Her mother smiled down at her gently, "Hello, sweetheart, Sarven. Who are your friends?" Sarven introduced them this time. "I am very pleased to meet you. I hear you came with dear Tala's fiancé?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Ron said quietly.   
  
"Very pleased," She said again. "They are in section four."   
  
"Thanks, mom." Texi said, blowing her a kiss, which the painting caught. "She can't hear me." She said sadly as they moved down the left hallway, looking into rooms filled with various potion making equipments. "But she understands."  
  
"She's..." Harry began.  
  
"Yes, she died in the accident." She shook her head. "Dad was so broken up I think he would have looked for Karsis if it weren't for Tainn and I."  
  
"Who's Karsis?" Hermione asked curiously as they approached another branching hallway and a picture of an elderly wizard with clouds of white hair. 'Jonas Stepenwolv.' The plaque read.   
  
"Hello, Grandpa." They heard Texi say as she waved at him. He didn't seem to be able to hear her either, but he waved back. She looked over her shoulder at them, "Grandpa was the one who began financing the Facility after mom was bitten when she was a teenager."  
  
"Your mother was a werewolf?" Ron asked incredulously.   
  
"Yes." She said firmly. "It's difficult for female lycanthropy victims to have children, but she was determined."  
  
"Who's Karsis?" Hermione asked again, determined not to let the prospect of new information slip through her fingers.  
  
"Oh, sorry about that, Hermione." Texi apologized. "Karsis is a what, not a who. It's a legendary book that is said to contain an incantation that will bring back the dead."  
  
"Like zombies?" Harry asked, recalling a muggle movie called 'Night of the Living Dead.'  
  
"No, like living, healthy, breathing people. But like I said, it's just a legend. Many people have looked for it but no one has found it. It's just a saying, really, to 'look for Karsis' only means that they're willing to wander until they die, looking for the unattainable."   
  
"Would that even be possible?" Ginny asked.   
  
"I can't really say." Texi spread her hands.  
  
"It is remotely possible." Sarven interjected, "But not probable."  
  
"Sarven is a scholar." Texi commented proudly. "He likes studying obscure subjects."   
  
"So do you think it really exists?" Harry asked eagerly.   
  
"Well," Sarven said slowly, as they approached a lighted room, they could hear voices inside. "I've only read a few references to it, and they usually put it in the legend category. There was one book, however, that spoke of it as though it truly existed. It said that the Book of Karsis was written in the tenth century by a European wizard named Ambrus Czanron. It was never used, however. He, realizing the uses to which the book could be put, became fearful and worked the Fidelus Charm on his most trusted friend." He pursed his lips briefly. "If it does exist, and the Fidelus Charm was passed on, it could be anywhere, and only that one person would know where it is."  
  
"Like a needle in a haystack." Texi commented wryly.  
  
"And you're not even sure if there is a needle, let alone a haystack." Hermione commented dryly as they reached the lighted doorway.  
  
"Quite correct." Sarven agreed. He walked inside, and Harry heard a startled exclamation. It sounded like his professor. He followed quickly, and saw Lupin leaning against the side of a large cabinet, clutching his chest and breathing heavily. Tala was patting his shoulder  
  
"Gave me a fright." He said when they asked if he was alright. "Looks just like...when he...at school." They nodded, showing that they had noticed as well.   
  
Sarven was staring at him in obvious surprise. "Do I remind you of someone?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Just like..." Lupin said again. "Coming back to haunt me." They had rarely seen him so out of sorts.   
  
Hermione answered for him, "You look...a lot like the Potions Master at our school." She said. "Professor Snape."  
  
An odd, closed look appeared on the young man's face. "Ah." He said briefly. Mitexi took his arm and he looked at her. She must have said something because he relaxed. "Well, they do say that everyone has a double." He tried to say lightly.  
  
"Not him, never would have said that." Lupin said, giving one more deep breath before straightening up. "I'm Remus Lupin." He said offering his hand. "I'm sorry about that, please do not hold it against me."  
  
"Sarven Pensouss." He replied, taking the professor's hand. "And I won't." He said with a smile.   
  
The room they were now in was quite large and filled with cabinets and cauldrons. It, like the rest of the Facility was made of stone. The windows were small and narrow, letting in little light, so there were lamps lit around the walls even with it being mid-day. A few people were there working, their cauldrons bubbling or steaming, one harried looking wizard with singed eyebrows was trying to get his cauldron to stop emitting small tongues of flame that hovered in the air and flew at him regularly. He was cursing and ducking as one of them set his hat on fire. There was a witch hurrying over to him, her wand at ready, dressed in moccasins, a pair of khaki shorts and a short green robe.  
  
"Apprentices," Texi said. "We make extra income by taking them in over the summer and tutoring them in potions. The real work is done in those smaller rooms we passed."   
  
The witch succeeded in putting out the fire and emptying the cauldron, talking to the smoking wizard quietly before heading over to where they were standing. The wizard sheepishly began his potion over. Harry stared at the woman who was walking towards them. She was very slight, and very scarred, her salt and pepper hair looked as though it were chopped off close to the scalp with a blunt knife. Her green eyes were like slits in her smiling face. "Sarven," She addressed the young man, "Would you keep an eye on things?" She leaned forward conspiratorially, "I don't want anyone else setting themselves on fire, and goodness knows what would happen if we left them alone."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." He said, and he swept over to the students, a very Snape-like sneer on his face.   
  
"He has no patience for Potions." She said with a rueful grin. "Come, let's go outside before they decide to blow something up."  
  
She turned to them once she had led them out of the smoky dimness, through a reinforced wooden door and out into a small garden. She didn't ask their names, probably figuring they were tired of introductions, and commenting, "I'd just forget them anyways." She ran her hands through her short hair, making it stand on end. "You can call me Chepi." She pointed one long, thin finger at Remus, "And you call me mom."  
  
"Yes, mom." Lupin said with a smile.   
  
"Hurst and Mingan are at the house with Tainn." She said, "We don't trust him in the facility, he's too..." She thought. "Too."   
  
"He doesn't work here?" Ginny asked.   
  
"No," Chepi replied, leading them along a flagstone path towards a large and slightly lopsided clapboard farmhouse. "He's the assistant Care of Magical Creatures professor at Sundonoma Academy."  
  
"The Wizarding school of the western United States." Hermione said promptly.   
  
"Yep." Chepi said, striding along ahead of them like a much taller woman.   
  
They passed a group of young wizards, who were taking turns riding a toy broomstick and playing with fake wands that Harry was fairly sure came from Weasly's Wizard Wheezes' mail-order catalogue.   
  
"Hey Chepi!" One of them called. "Miss Tala!" He noticed, poking his friends. "Miss Tala's back!"   
  
"Hi Andy." She grinned, "boys." The clustered around her, chattering, and she produced a back of Chocolate Frogs from her pocket with a finger to her mouth and a wink. "Spoil your suppers," She whispered.  
  
"Thanks, Miss Tala!" They chorused, then darted off to find a private spot to consume their chocolate.   
  
Chepi rolled her eyes at her. "You spoil them, Tala."  
  
"I know, Mom." She smiled.  
  
Hermione had been looking after the retreating boys, "Are they all..."  
  
"No, girl." Chepi said, leading on, "Only Andy and Evrain."   
  
Lupin had also been watching them, a far-off smile on his face. Harry realized he was remembering another group of boys from another time.   
  
They reached the house a few moments later, Harry noticing that it looked even more lop-sided close up. It was covered in flaking yellow paint and roofed with red tiles. The windows were open and Harry could see curtains flapping out of a couple of them, red, like the roof, the purple shutters occasionally banged against the sides of the house, causing more paint to flake off. The lawns surrounding the wrap-around deck were wild and tangled, and it looked as though any gardening that might have been attempted at one time had been quickly abandoned. There were trees growing all around it, one seeming to be growing right out of the roof itself. There were several cats lounging around on the railings and an owl perching on the very top of the roof. Chepi climbed the rickety stairs up to the wide, covered front porch, opened the ripped screen door with a loud creak and gestured them inside.   
  
Moody was waiting for them in the large kitchen, sitting at the table and talking to another man who was almost as scarred as he was, with dark gray hair braided and laying over his buckskin clad shoulders. A tall staff leaned on the edge of the table next to him. He had the strong nose that Harry associated with Tala, though his had a slash across the bridge, and black glittering eyes in a heavily lined, coppery face. Harry supposed that werewolf study was a very hazardous occupation, not just standing over cauldrons and brewing potions as he had thought. There was another man in the room as well, a tall man with a long black braid down his back, nearly blending in with his black robes, he turned as he heard the door creak open, a long spoon in his hand dripping gravy on the floor.  
  
He must've looked just like his father before he had become so scarred, but his green eyes belonged to his mother, and were obviously a very strong trait in their family. Chepi walked over and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek before looking across the table at Moody. "Wow, and I thought YOU were the most scarred man in the world, Hurst, dear. You have competition." She said with a sly smile and a wink at the old Auror.   
  
Moody stared at her as though he didn't know quite what to make of her. "I'm Chepi." She said. "And you're Alastor? May I call you Al? Good, good." She nodded approvingly without waiting for him to reply.   
  
Texi skirted around the rest of them and kissed her father on the cheek. He looked at her, then nodded, "I'm fine sweetie." He had a rough, gravelly voice. "Don't worry. Where's Sarven?" He listened, then nodded. "As long as he's here for dinner."   
  
Chepi turned her attention to her tall, solemn son. "And this is Mingan."  
  
"Pleased." He replied briefly. "Dinner's almost ready, if you would have a seat."  
  
"I thank the graces that Mingan can cook," Chepi said, " You would THINK that I could, but I think he learned how in self-defense."   
  
Soon the room was filled with chattering members of Tala's family, as Tainn bounded down from upstairs and Sarven swept in, muttering about idiot potion inepts, and sounding very much like Snape. They settled down at the table. And Tala ladled a sumptuous stew onto their plates. There were rolls and fresh milk and corn, and pitchers of butterbeer, which was just as good here as in England.   
  
Before they all began eating, Hurst cleared his throat and stood, a goblet in his hand. The rest all fell silent. "To all our guests, I propose a toast, I propose a toast to family and to friends, and welcome to our table a young man whom our Tala has decided to bring into our close-knit group. Though she will be leaving us to make a new life in a new place, we will keep them both in our hearts. To old dreams coming true and new lives beginning." His voice was dark and velvety smooth. He raised his glass at Remus, who was beaming self-consciously. "Son." He moved his glass around to include all the members of Lupin's group. "New friends."   
  
Then they drank, and Harry heard Texi's voice in his mind, "Hear, hear."  
  
Please review, thank you. 


	10. Chapter 10: Jitters

I do not own Harry Potter, wish I did, really.  
  
Chapter 10: Jitters  
  
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of activity, and now, on the day before the wedding, the whole community of Stepenwolv had turned out for a group picnic on the west lawn of the valley. Harry was astounded that the population was as large as it was. There were fully twenty families living there, as well as about thirty singles. The singles were nearly all werewolves, though some of them were grown children of some of the werewolves and loved the community at Stepenwolv so much that they decided not to leave when they were grown. They were young and old, children and adults. And everyone there but for he and his friends had a werewolf in the family. The elder ones were marked much as Lupin was, with premature gray hair and lined faces. The younger generation, however, had the advances that the Snowfoots had developed and they looked healthier and happier.   
  
Harry sat on a huge blanket between Texi and Ginny, gnawing on a cold chicken leg. Texi kept pointing out people and telling Harry about them and their pasts. "Genner was bitten when he was very young, his mother and father moved here soon after." Genner was a young man with messy medium brown hair, he was talking to a pretty witch with long dark brown hair and glasses. "That's Tric, her father is a werewolf, and she stayed because of Genner." This was with a grin. "She'll get him around to her way of thinking one of these days."  
  
"That's Jephili, and her mother and father. They moved here all the way from India." The little dark-eyed, black haired girl darted past with a small group of other little girls on her heels. They ranged from the ages of five to the age of ten in this little group. The giggling little witches were playing some sort of complicated game of tag, of which only they knew the rules. The boys joined in from time to time, but mostly they were laying on the bank of the river, poking sticks into the water and occasionally getting into splashing matches.   
  
The adults were lounging around, full and sleepy, watching the sun as it moved lazily towards the western mountains. Occasionally one or two would come over to talk to Tala and Lupin, and Harry wasn't sure if they were wishing them luck on the wedding, or on the war with Voldemort. Either was appreciated, he knew. Ron was laying on the blanket across from him, stretched out on his back and watching the occasional cloud pass overhead.   
  
Hermione was sitting propped against a tree near them, a book open in her lap. She would occasionally comment about something to Sarven, and, depending on his answer, would either agree, or get into a loud discussion on why either one of them was wrong. The two scholars had taken a liking to each other, and Sarven didn't seem to mind Hermione's know-it-allness, unlike his look alike. They would grin even while saying insulting things about each other's intelligence, enjoying the meeting of minds.   
  
He had asked Texi about Sarven once, and she had become reluctant to share information, which was very unlike her. All she would volunteer was that his mother had died and the Snowfoots took him in. She didn't know much more about him, she admitted, but was very tight-mouthed as she said it. She loved him very much, she told him, isolating her speech to Harry's mind, and the thought of his past hurt him, so she didn't bring it up. She glanced over at the dark-haired wizard and he, feeling her eyes, looked up and smiled. It looked most peculiar to see him smiling with Snape's face. He had a feeling Snape would not approve of his face to be used in such a manner.   
  
Sarven closed his book and, with a wave at Hermione, headed over to the blanket. She reached out his hand and Texi allowed him to help her up. "I'm going to go to the house, Harry, big day tomorrow." Sarven set his book on the basket and they walked off into the lengthening shadows, holding hands. Harry shook his head, wondering how some people found it so easy to be in love. He glanced back, and saw the shadow of Texi, towing Sarven by his hand, make a dash into the woods. They were both laughing.   
  
He looked at the blanket with a blush. And caught Ginny look at him, then in the direction that the two had disappeared in. She raised her eyebrows and laughed. Harry joined in a bit ruefully. Ron snored, and they laughed harder, as though he had made a joke. Hermione wandered over when they were both red-faced and gasping for breath. She asked what was so funny, and the two of them shook their heads, at a loss to explain.  
  
Ron snored again, and Ginny dissolved into the giggles. Hermione fought down a smile and went over to nudge him with her toe. "Ron?" she asked. "Ron, get up."  
  
He rolled over with a grunt, mumbling, "Give us a snog 'Mione." Ginny positively howled, and she clung to Harry, trying to get enough air to breathe. Hermione, however, was not amused, she turned horribly red and drew back her foot, preparing to kick him all the way into the river, Harry thought.   
  
Ron rolled back over and opened one eye, peering at her cheerfully. "Well, how about it?" He grinned. She gave an inarticulate howl of rage and kicked him in the ribs, he yelped in pain. And struggled to his feet, following her as she stomped off.   
  
"He's in trouble now." Harry commented.   
  
"Just watch." Ginny strangled, shaking her head and pointing between giggles. The two of them turned around and watched as Ron caught Hermione. She yelled at him, he yelled back, but luckily their words were inaudible. She stomped away again, he caught her and darted around so she had to stop. He stepped forward and took her in his arms, saying something softly. She shook her head, obviously telling him to get off. He said something else, and she touched his face as he lowered it towards hers, and they kissed in one of the last rays of sunlight, before walking off towards the house.  
  
"You see? I told you." Ginny said. "He's getting better at it, and Hermione knows how to get him to do what she wants...eventually." She sat back up, straightening her robes, her eyes teary from her laughing fit, red staining her cheeks, and her hair straggling in her eyes. Harry, on impulse, reached up and brushed a strand behind her ear. "You're getting better, too." She said with a little smile, brushing her lips over his cheek before standing and heading off into the shadows.   
  
Harry woke the next morning to find the whole house awake, even Ron, who usually slept longer than Harry, was out of the room. Yawning, Harry visited the bathroom. By the time he got out, Ron was back in the room, standing at the foot of his four-poster, holding up his dress robes with a look of worry on his face. "They look like they've spent the week in a duffel bag!" Which they had.   
  
Harry scrubbed his hands through his still-damp hair, examining Ron's robes. They were sapphire blue and had a handsome leather belt that went around Ron's waist, and leather buckles across the chest. They were quite handsome, other than the fact that they were horribly wrinkled. "I bet Hermione knows a spell..." Harry commented. And Ron, looking terribly grateful, dashed out with the robes in hand.   
  
Harry turned and started rummaging in his own bag, finally coming up with his bottle-green robes. They were fitted across his shoulders and buttoned with silver down the left side of his chest before flaring out below the waist. He pulled on a pair of black trousers and white t-shirt, attempted once more to fix his hair, finally gave up and pulled his robes on, fastening them. He grabbed his glasses, looked in the mirror above the bureau, which was missing half of its handles, then glanced around and, seeing no one, spun, liking how the light material swirled around before falling precisely at the toes of his boots. The mirror applauded. He made a noise in his throat and, stowing his wand in his pocket, made his way out and down the creaking, dusty stairs.   
  
The kitchen was in a terrible state, Mingan was standing in the middle of it, a dangerous look on his face, brandishing a long oak staff around, decorating a cake and making appetizers at the same time as retrieving a steaming goose from the oven and stirring a sauce on the stovetop. Harry made to back away, but Mingan glanced him and a few donuts hurtled towards the boy, who caught them and retreated into the living room. Moody and Hurst were sitting on the couch, both dressed in wedding finery, and both with their feet up on the coffee table.   
  
"Harry," Moody grunted cheerfully at him, "See you made it out of the kitchen alive, good job."   
  
Hurst snorted with laughter beside him. "My boy is in his element with all this work to be done." He looked up as a crash and a few curses came filtering through the door. "He's on vacation from the Assembly. He works for magical co-operation, pretends it drives him up the wall, but he enjoys it."   
  
Ron darted into the room, his eyes wild, his robes twisted. "Nearly killed me with a bowl of cereal," he gulped. Hermione and Ginny followed soon after. They looked extraordinarily pretty this morning. They had apparently been doing things to each other's hair, and Ginny's was pulled up into a purposefully messy knot on her head, wisps hanging down around her face. She was wearing dark green dress robes and they were fitted around her top, off the shoulder, before ending at a drop waist after which they fit loosely around her legs, matching slippers peeked out from underneath her hem.   
  
Hermione's hair was braided back from her face, twisting before forming a coil, threaded through with a string of pearls. Her dress robes were opalescent violet, and shifted to blue and silver as she moved. They had a high neck but left her arms bare, and had a princess waist. Harry, of course, knew nothing about clothes, but he thought theirs were rather nice. He grinned. "You both look smashing this morning." He commented. Hurst, peering around him, nodded in agreement.   
  
"So many lovely ladies around, Chepi must be getting worried," He said with a perfectly straight face.   
  
"Why? I'm the only one who really appreciates your scars." Chepi laughed from the doorway, ducking a flying saucer, still with a cup of tea on it, as she moved inside. She had smoothed her hair down, which made her look less wild, and she wore aqua colored robes draped over a gown in a lighter shade of the same color. Harry wasn't sure whether or not her finery made her scars more, or less noticeable. She flopped down into a threadbare armchair with a sigh. "Texi's with Tala." She said tiredly, "And Tainn is with Lupin, so you boys may want to go rescue him."   
  
"We'll go help Texi." Hermione said as the boys left the room to find their professor.   
  
They moved down the hall, dodging cutlery as they passed through the kitchen, and found Lupin sitting on his bed, looking calm but strained. Tainn was giving him all sorts of advice on married life, which he was politely ignoring.   
  
"Good morning, boys." He said, then buried his head in his hands, breathing deeply and quickly. He was wearing the same silver and blue robes he had worn before the Session.  
  
"He's been doing that every few minutes," Tainn supplied cheerfully. He was dressed in a long black jacket over a green shirt and black trousers. His hair was brushed and tied back into a long tail, and he had several feathers stuck in a small braid that hung in front of his ear. His feet were still bare under his pants legs. "Just nerves." He added in a wise sort of voice that didn't go well with his feral smile.   
  
Lupin uncovered his face again. "Glad to see you, by Merlin! I didn't think I would be so nervous." He stared at Harry for a long moment, then stood up and turned to look out the window, leaning his arm against the frame, which creaked threateningly. "Would that I could get it over with," He murmured to himself. "So many unexpected memories, and how I wish...how I wish..." He turned back around and Harry was startled to see tears standing in his eyes. "I'm glad you boys could come. Everyone else was too wrapped up in..." He shook his head. "Don't think about it today," He said, agitated.   
  
Tainn perched on the bureau, watching Lupin curiously as he paced around the room. Finally he perched back on the bed, burying his head in his hands and breathing quickly and heavily. The boys stood there helplessly, looking at each other and trying to find something to say.   
  
"You'll be just fine, Professor," Ron finally said supportively, sitting on the bed beside him and clasping his shoulder.   
  
"Thank you, Ronald." Lupin replied thickly, his head still buried in his hands. "Is it nearly time yet?" He asked Tainn who glanced at the clock, which read, 'A few minutes.'   
  
"We can head out now," He replied, showing himself off of the bureau and landing lightly on his unshod feet.   
  
Lupin nodded and he and Ron stood. The bed creaked in a dangerous way. Lupin swallowed a couple times before asking, "Do I look alright?" They assured him that he looked perfectly fine, and led him out the door.   
  
They stood behind him at the front of a long aisle, filled with the residents of Stepenwolv. Lupin's eyes kept darting around, and he looked as though he were about to choke. His eyes fell on Harry and he attempted to smile before giving up and looking out over their heads. A few tears slipped down his lined face.   
  
It was then that Harry understood Lupin's muttered wishes. He stood there, basically alone, no Prongs to welcome him to the club of married men, no Padfoot to clap him on the shoulder and joke about giving up his freedom for a ball and chain. The ones that he wished for most in the world to be with him on the most important day of his life were gone. And at this moment he mourned for his lost friends, perhaps remembering another wedding more than sixteen years ago, perhaps remembering laughing faces and another bride and groom.   
  
Harry swallowed with difficulty. He knew what was wrong, but he didn't know what to do.   
  
He was saved by a muffled gasp from his professor, and looked up to find his eyes fastened on the opposite end of the aisle. There Tala stood, her father and mother at her side, her brother behind her and her niece and nephew proceeding her up the aisle. Lupin grinned through his tears, and Harry knew that the faces he had seen in his mind's eye just a moment before were moved to the side as he looked upon the glowing face of the woman he loved. The face of his bride.   
  
Please review. 


	11. Chapter 11: Message for Moony

I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own much of anything...sad, really.  
  
Chapter 11: Message for Moony  
  
Harry stood at Lupin's shoulder, smiling as his Professor took Tala's hands. She was beaming radiantly, her soft, ice blue gown trailing behind her on the verdant grass. Her hair and the beaded fringe of her belt swung in the crisp breeze. They both turned to the officiate, an ancient Native American wizard who was so bent that it appeared he was bowing. He wore a colorful feathered cape on his shoulders, which fluttered as he raised his hands and began to chant.   
  
Harry couldn't understand the words, but apparently Tala could, nodding at appropriate times, and nudging Lupin to tell him when he should also agree. He would grin and nod, his eyes locked on the woman before him.   
  
Harry could see Texi behind Tala, dressed in a long buckskin robe, intricately beaded. She noticed his glance and smiled, starting up a running translation of the old Shaman's words. He was beginning to think he should have paid more attention to his Legillimency and Occlumency lessons, it appeared to have more uses than he had expected.   
  
"As the wheel turns and turns again," Her voice said silently in his mind, "We find and lose and find again. And join the cycle with those who we are meant to know. This wheel is not just here in this physical world, but continues spinning in the afterlife, onwards and upwards. And we know that no one is ever lost to its spokes. Weaving the tapestry of life, the wheel can bind people together and pull their threads from the picture. And when it decides to bring two people together, even though they are worlds apart, they will find each other."   
  
The shaman looped a rope around the couple's wrists, "This is a representation of the cord that binds these two together on the spirit plain. It can never be broken."   
  
Harry glanced behind him and saw the residents of Stepenwolv listening intently. "This ceremony is to acknowledge what the spirit world has already decided in this mortal realm." Texi continued as the shaman spoke. It didn't sound nearly as musical in English.   
  
Harry felt a hand rest on his shoulder and froze. He turned slowly, seeing Ron sitting with Hermione, so it couldn't have been him. Besides, this hand was the hand of a grown man, and heavier.   
  
He twisted around and saw Sirius standing behind him, smiling over Harry's shoulder at his old friend. He looked down at Harry and held his finger to his lips. "We had to come see Moony get married." This was when Harry realized he was living the events of the day over again in his dreams.  
  
"We?" He said in a despairing voice, for a moment having believed he was awake and really had Sirius standing at his side.   
  
Sirius nodded towards the priest, and there Harry saw his father standing beside the old man, but, unlike Sirius, it seemed like he was hardly there at all, merely the shadow of a man.   
  
"Why does he look like that?" Harry said, straining forward, wanting to run to him, but Sirius' hand on his shoulder was like a weight, and he couldn't move even if he tried.   
  
"He's further up and in." Sirius replied. "Be careful Harry," He said heavily, "It's hard for him to be here at all. He will speak with you later."  
  
"But-but!"   
  
There was roar from the crowd and Harry saw Lupin kissing his bride. They took off down the aisle, and Harry could see tears running down his father's face, more substantial than he was.   
  
Harry went through the events of the day one after another, always with Sirius near his side and his father watching from a distance. He once again ate Mingan's artwork of a supper then followed the others as they made their way out onto the lawn where a group of the residents were setting up instruments and starting to play. The lawn had been laid with a gleaming wooden dance floor.   
  
He watched Lupin dance with Tala, gliding across the floor in an intricate waltz. He danced with Hermione, watching her hair glitter in the light of the torches that were placed around the party as it went on into the night. He danced with Texi, her wry comments about his dancing making him laugh and step on her toes. He even glided across the floor with Tala, who told him at least eight times how happy she was he was there. He even danced with a few residents of the Stepenwolv community, mostly young women.   
  
He was moving across the floor, slowly, his feet set into the patterns of the previous day. Ginny was sitting on one of the benches that Hurst had conjured up around the floor. He sat down with a sigh, and she grinned at him.   
  
"Popular tonight, aren't we?"   
  
He couldn't really think of a way to answer that, so he grunted and watched the dance floor, where Texi was moving slowly across the gleaming surface, wrapped in Sarven's arms as they swayed to a slow, mournful tune. He moved his head to look up at Sirius, and saw him watching them too, a calculating look on his face. He caught Harry's glance but didn't say anything.   
  
Ginny was arranging her skirts when Harry looked back down at her. "Shall we?" He said, standing up and offering her his hand. She giggled and allowed him to lead her out on the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he put his hands on her waist, waiting a few beats before catching the rhythm of the song. He looked down at her flushed and pleased face and smiled as they began to dance.   
  
They passed Ron and Hermione a few times as they moved around, he looking a bit clumsy as she guided him around. But when he saw Harry he grinned so happily that Harry had to grin back.   
  
Later, as the music was winding down, and Tainn and a young werewolf Harry couldn't quite remember the name of had stolen Ginny and Hermione for the last dance, he and Ron collapsed on a bench, Ron scowling out over the floor. Tala and Lupin had disappeared a time before.  
  
"Cheer up, Ron." Harry said, "She danced nearly every other dance with you." Ron blushed, looking down. "Have you ever been to a wedding before?" Harry asked him, trying to change the subject.   
  
"Just one," Ron said, "My aunt Genevieve married a muggle. Ceremony was totally different, though."   
  
"I imagine," Harry laughed. Ron grinned at him before fading out of view, and Harry's father sat in his place.   
  
"Son," He said, his voice sounding as though it were coming from a great distance. The only clear things about him were his eyes, which were looking at Harry and filled with pride. "There are so many things I would like to say, but cannot."   
  
"Why, dad?" Harry said, his voice hoarse with tears. "Sirius can talk to me, why can't you?"  
  
James looked at him before saying slowly, "It is different when one falls behind the veil without dying first. A lot of Padfoot is still strongly here, but soon, he too will fade and go further up and in."   
  
"He is right, Harry." Sirius said as he sat down on his other side. "We will have to go soon, but first we have a message to write." He looked down at his godson. "Go get a piece of parchment and ink and your quill, Harry."  
  
Harry was barely aware of his actions as he climbed out of bed and rummaged in his bag, pulling out the items Sirius had requested. He sat down at the desk and waited, still almost completely asleep.   
  
In his dream he was also sitting at the desk, his father and godfather standing at his shoulders. His eyes closed, he began to write.   
  
  
  
Harry woke up the next morning feeling very uncomfortable. It took him a few seconds to realize why. He had been sleeping slumped back against the rail-back chair at the desk in his and Ron's room, his quill still held loosely in his hand. He sat up, rubbing his neck and setting the quill down. Turning, he saw Ron gaping at him from his bed, his hair still sticking half up from sleep.   
  
"Must've been some important letter, Mate." He commented, his gaze curious.   
  
"Letter?" Harry said, still stupid from sleep. He turned back around and looked at the desk, where there was piece of parchment covered in neat rows of handwriting. "The message." He said quietly, his eyes widening. He had thought that that was all a dream, but staring up at him from that page... He leapt up before rubbing at his neck again, a groan escaping his lips. Ron watched in astonishment as Harry grabbed his dressing gown, belted in on, snatched the piece of paper from the desk and bolted out the door and down the stairs.   
  
He skidded to a stop in the kitchen, making all present stare at him.  
  
"What's up, boy?" Chepi asked, tightening the cord on her terrycloth bathrobe. He had to catch his breath for a second before he could answer. Just then, Lupin entered the room, looking rather tired. He walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup a coffee before turning. His eyebrow lifted when he saw Harry, panting and leaning against the doorframe.   
  
"Harry?" He asked.  
  
"Message for you, sir." He said rather shakily, holding out the parchment.   
  
"Message?" He nearly dropped the cup, and succeeded in sloshing coffee over the sleeve of his dressing gown. "Is it from Dumbledore?" He asked, rushing forward. "Is everything alright?" Harry handed him the parchment.  
  
Lupin read the first line and his mouth dropped open. He would have sat right down on the floor in astonishment if Hurst hadn't quickly shoved a chair under him. "Harry, where? How?" He asked, his voice choked.  
  
Harry shook his head and held his hands up, showing he didn't understand either. Lupin lowered his head to the parchment, reading each line slowly as though savoring it, tears standing in his eyes. It read:  
  
  
  
Mssrs. Prongs and Padfoot would like to express their congratulations to one Mr. Moony on the day of his wedding.  
  
Mr. Prongs welcomes Mr. Moony to married life and wonders how he managed to catch a woman who could put up with his little problem.  
  
Mr. Padfoot would like to inquire whether or not Mr. Prongs is referring to Mr. Moony's morning breath.   
  
Mr. Prongs assures Mr. Padfoot that that is indeed what he is referring to.   
  
Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Prongs about Mr. Moony's breath and would like to add that he is disappointed in Mr. Moony for giving up the bachelor life for the old 'ball and chain.'  
  
Mr. Prongs would like to remind Mr. Padfoot that he also once considered gaining his own ball and chain.  
  
Mr. Padfoot would ask that Mr. Prongs never bring that up again.   
  
Mr. Prongs apologizes to Mr. Padfoot and reminds him that they are supposed to talking to Mr. Moony.   
  
Mr. Padfoot gets back to business with reassuring Mr. Moony that any woman who would put up with his breath is worth keeping.   
  
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Moony is much to pretty for Mr. Moony and he wonders what sort of blackmail he used to get her to marry him.  
  
Mr. Padfoot is reminded of a time Mr. Moony managed to get a picture of one Snivellus snogging one Miss Chatterhall, and used it to get Snivellus to do his Potions homework for two months.   
  
Mr. Prongs also recalls the incident, but reminds Mr. Padfoot that he, and not Mr. Moony, was responsible for the blackmailing in question.  
  
Mr. Prongs is corrected and admits that Mr. Moony may have been able to get Mrs. Moony on his own merits, whatever they are.  
  
Mr. Padfoot assures Mr. Prongs that Mr. Moony has many merits, and that Mr. Prongs is just jealous that Mr. Moony has more than he.   
  
Mr. Prongs would draw up a list to point out the fallacies in that statement, but he doesn't wish to make the effort.  
  
Mr. Padfoot adds industriousness to Mr. Moony's list of good points.   
  
Mr. Prongs would like to note that Mrs. Prongs likes him just the way he is. Mr. Prongs also notes that he is very happy for Mr. and Mrs. Moony, and thanks them for looking after Prongs Jr.  
  
Mr. Padfoot also thanks Mr. Moony for this, and for being a good friend to he and Mr. Prongs.   
  
Mr. Padfoot notes that Mr. Moony once promised to name his firstborn son after Mssrs. Padfoot and Prongs.  
  
Mr. Prongs shudders at the thought of little Moony Jrs running around, certain that they will inherit their father's morning breath.  
  
Mr. Padfoot wishes Mr. Moony good luck from he and Mr. Prongs. He tells Mr. Moony to be well and happy, and treat Tala right, and he assures Mr. Moony that they both miss him very much.  
  
Mr. Prongs adds that Mrs. Prongs sends her love.   
  
Lupin looked up at Harry, his hands trembling on the parchment. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before he could talk. "Thank you, Harry. This is the best gift anyone could have given me, but for Tala." He folded the parchment carefully and put it in his pocket, "Oh, and Harry?" He said, pausing.   
  
"Yes, professor?" He asked.   
  
"Why don't you call me Remus," He suggested, "No need to be so formal."  
  
"Okay, Remus." Harry said, and his former professor left the room.  
  
Hermione, who had been looking over Remus' shoulder as he read, looked over at Harry and asked, in a hushed voice. "How did you do it, Harry?"   
  
"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.  
  
"Honestly, Harry! That wasn't even your handwriting, neither of them were!" She snapped at him, "I've checked over your papers enough to know your handwriting when I see it."  
  
Harry looked down, unable to answer for a moment. "Th-they wanted him to know that they were thinking of him."  
  
Hermione stared at him. "How..."  
  
He looked in her eyes, and she looked down, unable to hold his gaze. "They just...did." He said firmly, looking around and daring anyone else to ask him questions as he ate the bowl of oatmeal that Mingan had set before him.  
  
Please review. 


	12. Chapter 12: High Noon

I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 12: High Noon  
  
On the day before they planned to leave, a few of the residents of Stepenwolv decided to make an excursion to Ambersville, obviously not something they did very often. Harry and his friends decided to go with them, eager to explore the largest wizarding town in the United States. They were just heading out of Tric's parent's house when Remus came trotting up to them.   
  
"Harry, I need to speak to you for a moment."  
  
"Sure, prof-Remus." Harry corrected himself.   
  
The professor led him a little way away from the rest, about ten of the residents plus his friends from England.   
  
"Take out Cord, Harry. In all the goings-ons I kept forgetting about him."  
  
"Will he be all right?" Harry said nervously as he held out his wrist and stripped back his sleeve to reveal the leather bracelet.   
  
"Yes, he'll be fine." Remus took out his wand and prepared to take off the spell. "Moody reminded me just a few minutes ago. He seemed to think that you should have you extra protection out away from Stepenwolv." Remus sounded amused and serious at the same time. "Finite incantatum." He said quietly, and the bracelet turned back into the snake with a pop. "You should be watchful, Harry." He told him, "Remember what Moody said at the train station."  
  
"He told you about that?" Harry said, a bit crestfallen. Cord lifted his head from Harry's wrist and looked around curiously. Durry, who was on his usual perch on Harry's shoulder, squeaked at him. Harry heard Ginny gasp, and glanced over his shoulder to see her shrinking behind Hermione.  
  
"He did." Remus said, "and he was quite correct." He nodded at the group before he turned back, and saw Tala coming towards them, holding her broom. "Going too, dear?"  
  
"Yes." She said with a brilliant smile. "We're running low on a few of the ingredients that we can't grow here."   
  
"Well, have fun, then." He said, giving her a kiss and murmuring something that Harry couldn't hear in her ear before heading back towards the Facility.   
  
"We'll be back soon." She called to him, and he turned in mid-step and waved before striding on. "Well, Harry," She said with a brief smile. "This is Cord, then?"  
  
Cord looked at her, then at Harry. "Another 'friend'?" He asked, his tongue flickering out.   
  
"Yes," Harry said in the hissing tones of parseltongue, "This is Tala."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Cord." Tala said cheerfully. "Let's go join the others, they look eager to be off."   
  
Harry talked to Cord as they went to meet them, "These are also friends, and this is the place that they live." The group was watching them approach, several of them open-mouthed at the sound of Harry speaking parseltongue.   
  
He gulped when they reached them, before switching back to English. "Everyone, this is Cord. He is another pet of mine."  
  
"Where did you have him?" The twenty-something witch named Tric asked curiously.  
  
"Up my sleeve." Harry said, "As a bracelet."  
  
"Interesting." Was all she said in reply, as though people with snake bracelets were an everyday occurrence. She turned to the young man beside her, tall with a straight nose and brown hair that curled over his forehead. Harry dredged up the name from his memory, Genner, he thought it was.   
  
He smiled at her. "I suppose you want one now?"  
  
"Not today, Genner, save it for my birthday." She said seriously. Texi and Sarven laughed at them "Guess you should get one for Texi, too, Sarven, we'll start a new fad." She smiled along.   
  
"We'll do that, then." Sarven agreed, "When's your birthday, Tric?"  
  
"I'll tell you when I remember," She said cheekily.  
  
"She just doesn't want anyone to figure out how old she is," Another young woman provided.  
  
Ginny was still staring uneasily at his wrist, ignoring the other members of their group still bantering among themselves as they moved off, holding their brooms.  
  
Harry dropped back to walk beside her. "It's all right, Ginny. He's quite safe."   
  
"Are you certain?" She asked tremulously.   
  
He didn't hesitate. "Quite sure. Trust me, Ginny."  
  
"I do, Harry." She said with a small smile. "I just, don't like snakes."  
  
"Well, once we get to school, I'll keep him in my dormitory and tell him not to go near yours."  
  
"Thanks, Harry." She grinned as they got on their brooms and took off, the residents still bantering, loudly now, so they could be heard over the wind.  
  
  
  
They landed again at the launch near the Ambersville Station, stowing their brooms at the storage facility. It was a small wooden shed with a rack for their brooms, a locking mechanism activated when they touched their wands to it, so it would only open again after they came back and re-tapped each with their wands. Harry thought the lock was rather clever and felt safe leaving his precious Firebolt there.   
  
Most of them headed off in different directions, but Tala stayed with Harry and his friends, showing them around.  
  
The main street of Ambersville, now that Harry was actually there, resembled very much a western boomtown, with wooden storefronts advertising an apothecary, a saloon, even a blacksmith's forge. They lined the dusty street, with boardwalks, water troughs and hitching posts. Harry thought it all looked a little odd in the middle of a wizard town. Tala led them into the apothecary, and they found the interior much more familiar, just like the potion's shop at Diagon Alley.  
  
"It's kind of odd, isn't it?" Harry commented, peering out the dusty window into the old West.   
  
"For the tourists." Tala said with a small smile, paying for the ingredients she needed and turning back to them. "We give them what they expect to find. The rest of the town is reasonably normal."   
  
She led them out and across the street to the ice cream parlor. She ordered five cones of her favorite flavor and handed them out. "It's called Blue Moon. It's...indescribable."   
  
Hermione took a bite, and looked thoughtful. "It tastes like..." She stopped, really unable to find a way to describe the flavor. "I don't know, but it's good."   
  
The rest agreed with her, and they went exploring the rest of the dusty street, peering in windows and licking their ice cream cones. They were just finishing up when there was a loud bang behind them. Ron dropped his cone in surprise, and Harry's free hand darted to his wand as they all turned.  
  
There, in the middle of the dusty street, two wizards were facing off. A piece of tumbleweed rolled between them and off down the road as they stared at each other.   
  
"You've been asking for this since the first day you walked into this town, Ambers." One of them barked, his pale blond hair swinging as he drew his wand and pointed it at the other.   
  
"You really are an idiot," The other called back tauntingly, "I didn't walk in, I flew in." He pulled his own wand out of his dark-colored robes with a flourish.   
  
"If you'd have kept your head down, I might've let you live, but no! Nothing but trouble." He called, "I OWN this town and you're trespassing."  
  
"Own this town, Willin?" The other said with a sneer, "Perhaps you did, but now I'm here and things are going to be different. You're not going to have your own way anymore. There are LAWS now, and you're breaking them just by standing there."   
  
"Enough talk!" The blond wizard bellowed, "Carnecetella!"   
  
The other wizard doubled over in pain, but still managed to keep his wand pointed at the other. "Stupify!"  
  
"Protego!" He laughed. "Such a weak spell. You should have tried this one. Hituslify!"   
  
Ambers jumped aside with a grunt, hitting the dirt with a great puff of dust. The spell from the light haired wizard hit a hitching post and the post exploded, sending pieces and splinters of wood flying. "Esternomis!" Ambers cried.   
  
Willin didn't manage to protect himself from this one, and it struck him in the center of the chest, throwing him into the side of the Blacksmith's shop with a terrific crunch. He didn't move again as Ambers struggled to his feet, clutching his stomach through his dust covered robes.   
  
"Willin?" He asked, stumbling over to him, and pulling the robes away from his face. He felt for a pulse and sighed with relief.   
  
"Ambers!" A pretty young witch with curly blond hair cried, throwing herself out of the door of an unmarked building and at the dark-robed wizard. "Are you all right? I was so scared!" She clung to him, and he hugged her close, a heroic smile on his face. The noon-bells started tolling.   
  
Somebody behind Harry started clapping, and soon the whole street was full of claps and cheers, Tala laughed outright. Harry found he had to pry his fingers away from his wand.   
  
"What in the name of Merlin was that?" Ron exclaimed as Willin jumped up, suddenly perfectly alright, and joined the other two in a bow.   
  
"That was the saving of Ambersville, featuring the ever-talented Robert Handly and Canter Roberson." Tala said with a little grin. "We only caught the tail end of it." She turned as the wizard who had played Willin approached her. "Canter, another very good performance."  
  
"Why, that sure is nice of you to say, Miss Snowfoot." He said in a heavy southern drawl. "I think I probably should have hit the wall a little harder, though, hardly made a dent."  
  
"Ever the perfectionist." Tala said fondly. She turned back to the others as Canter walked off to talk to some of his fans, "We went to school together, both in the same house."  
  
"You have houses, too?" Ginny asked.   
  
"Oh, yes." She replied. "I believe we even have the same number as Hogwarts. There's Adelbarn, Quisinton, Marifeth, and Rosenturn. We were in Marifeth.  
  
"The school was influenced in many ways by the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Two of the founders actually attended there. The other two were traditionalist American magicians." She continued.  
  
"Where is...Sundonoma, was it?" Harry asked.   
  
"It is south of here, carved into a sandstone cliff near the Zuni ruins." She told him. She told them a lot more as they walked around, occasionally stopping to peer in stores. Ron and Harry were delighted at the sweet shop and bought bags of American goodies to take home with them.   
  
They listened with half an ear as she said that the school's founders, unlike those of Hogwarts, never had any falling outs, that the Marifeths were, in general, the somewhat big-hearted bookworms, and that they were taught Care of Magical Creatures by a Bigfoot named Tony. She seemed full of facts about the school, somewhat like Hermione and the infamous, 'Hogwarts, a History.'   
  
She was so involved with telling them about Sundonoma, that she barely even registered a rather tall wizard with light brown hair who was trying to get her attention. Finally, she turned, a pleasant greeting dying on her lips as she saw him.  
  
"Tristin." She said finally, her eyes wide.  
  
"The lovely Tala." He replied, his voice like raw silk being pulled over concrete. He took her hand and made to kiss it before she tore it away. He scowled for a moment before his face settled back into slightly disinterested urbanity. He leaned back, lacing his hands in front of his stomach. "I've been hearing the most disturbing rumors, Tala." He said with a half-smile that looked like a sneer. "They're saying that you married one of those creatures you love so much."  
  
"They're not creatures," She replied, her voice straining to match his polite manner. "They are human beings."   
  
"Certainly." He murmured. "But is it true? Did you find a tame one to warm your feet on the full moon?" He leaned forward conspiratorially, "Tell me, what's it like that time of the month, animalistic?"   
  
Tala fought hard to contain a cry of rage. "Why don't you go back to where you came from, prison, I believe it was?" She spat.  
  
"I'm shocked at you, Tala." He positively purred. "I came from right here, as you recall. I've only recently come back. There are so many interesting rumors floating about, some of them coming from all the way across the sea."  
  
Tala turned white beneath her tan. "It was true." She whispered. "I may have hated you, but I didn't think..."   
  
"Oh, my, but you are jumping to conclusions." He said, a mean little smile on his lips. "We used to know each other quite well, and you think that of me?"  
  
"Yes." She whispered. She stepped back, and he grabbed her arm.   
  
"You should let her go, right now." Someone snarled from behind Harry. He turned to see Sarven standing behind him, his face like a thundercloud.   
  
"Why, if it isn't young Sarven." Tristin sneered. "I thought you'd be dead by now."  
  
"I live, no thanks to you, Stepfather." Sarven growled menacingly, "Now, let her go." Tristan released Tala's arm with a deliberate gesture.   
  
"Such an impertinent little bastard." He said with a great smile, "I should have done something about that long ago."  
  
Sarven started forward with a roar, and it took both Harry and Ron to restrain him. Ginny and Hermione had their wands out. Ginny reluctantly tucked hers back in her robes at a sharp gesture from Tala, but Hermione kept hers trained on the wizard, a furious look in her eyes. But Tristin wasn't looking the young witch menacing him with her wand. He was looking at Harry, who was still trying to keep Sarven, his teeth bared as he tried to reach his stepfather, back.   
  
"I never thought I'd see the day." He said quietly. "Harry Potter." Harry looked up, aware of the man's eyes trained on his forehead, on his scar. "The one who threw down the Dark Lord."  
  
Now Harry stiffened, he felt Durry clasp his neck tightly, and glanced down to see fur the color of charcoal. He released Sarven, occasioning a yelp from Ron as he now had to restrain him on his own. Ginny ran to help him, talking soothingly under her breath. Harry wasn't really aware of them. Tristan had called Voldemort the Dark Lord, only his servants called him that. His hand found his wand.   
  
While he was pulling it out, Cord lifted his head and looked at the man, his tongue flickering nervously. "Another 'friend?'" He said.  
  
"No," Harry hissed back.  
  
"Oh. May I bite him?" The snake asked coolly.  
  
"Not right now..." Harry thought a second. "A menacing hiss might be appropriate, though."  
  
The snake complied, and Harry saw the man look at him with narrowed, wary eyes.  
  
Tristin backed away, his hands raised in mock surrender. "Oh, I wouldn't DREAM, of hurting you, Mr. Potter, that honor goes to bigger wizards than I." He turned and disappeared into shadows.   
  
Tala had to breathe deeply for a few moments before regaining her composure, though her face was still pale. Finally she turned. "Hermione, put that away." Her voice was crisp, business-like. Hermione slowly sheathed her wand. "That's better." She went to Sarven, who still had Ginny and Ron holding his arms, pulled him away and wrapped him in a big hug. He resisted for a moment before sagging against her. She said a few words that Harry couldn't hear, and Sarven nodded, turning away and raking his sleeve across his eyes.   
  
"We will have to leave right away." She said seriously, reaching in the front of her robes and pulling out a stone wrapped in wire, suspended from a beaded necklace, she enclosed it in her fist and closed her eyes.   
  
Within five minutes, every one of their entourage had appeared, some appearing quite blown, as though they had run a distance. Mitexi went immediately to Sarven and took his hand, her eyes fixed on his. "I'm alright." He muttered. She continued to look in his eyes, almost demandingly. They couldn't hear what she said, but he nodded, and her face grew incredibly hard.   
  
"Everyone!" Tala said, an unfamiliar note of command ringing in her voice, "To broom, then straight to Stepenwolv." No one protested.   
  
As they practically ran back to the broom shed, Harry contemplated the change in Tala. He had once seen a nature show about wolves when he was allowed to watch television at Mrs.Figg's. They had talked a lot about the alpha female of the pack. Harry realized that, although Chepi was the one in charge of the research, when Tala was around she was in charge of the people. She was the alpha female of her pack, and she took their protection very seriously. The reached the shed and each retrieved their brooms.  
  
Tristan, he was sure, was an American Voldemort supporter, maybe even a Death Eater. The thought made him cold, even more than did the wind they flew through on their way back to the valley.   
  
Review please. 


	13. Chapter 13: Reinforcements

J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I'm only borrowing that wonderful world and making some of its members my own.  
  
Chapter 13: Reinforcements  
  
Harry could have easily outstripped the rest on his Firebolt, and have made it to Stepenwolv long before. But, as had happened at the end of the summer before his fourth year, he found himself surrounded by people on broomsticks. Tala was flying behind him, and whenever he glanced back he would catch her looking nervously over her shoulder. Tric and Genner were circling, while Sarven flew above him and Mitexi below. The others that had accompanied them were gliding about in wider circles, and a few had gone ahead on Tala's orders.  
  
Sarven hadn't said anything since his confrontation with his stepfather. Harry wondered why he had such hatred for the man. But, he thought a moment later, it may perhaps be better if he didn't know. He noticed, though, that Sarven didn't allow his own troubles to interfere with his relations with those who loved him.  
  
He was aware of how, the year before, annoyed with the unfairness of the world, he had lashed out at his friends. He knew now that the unfairness wasn't solely for him, and he strove to keep his attitude upbeat for the sake of those around him. After all, he wasn't sure of how much time he had left with them. It was difficult, but he had to try. He constantly struggled with his depression, and his fury, and the burden of destiny. But he figured he shouldn't take it out on his friends, again, he wasn't sure how much time he had left with them.   
  
Right now, his temper was nearly at boiling point. Everywhere! They were everywhere, and if the ministry had gotten up off of their plush posteriors, they could have prevented a lot of it. Harry had allowed himself to begin to feel safe, and thus felt the loss of that comfort like a heavy blow.   
  
If he had been able to, he could have used the tension-easing properties of performing some aerial acrobatics. But as he was surrounded, and Tala was obviously worried, he knew that would not be the best of ideas at this time. He instead went over various curses and hexes and protection spells in his head, thinking of the new ones he planned to teach the DA if Dumbledore gave him permission this year. He mumbled a few out loud, and Ron, who was in his line of sight, reached up and scratched his back vigorously as though at a stubborn insect bite.   
  
Harry was startled for a moment, which had the effect of dissipating some of his bad mood. Then he shrugged, the itching spell couldn't possibly have hit Ron. Harry hadn't even had his wand anywhere near his hands, which were clasped on his broomstick. Merely coincidence.   
  
Almost sooner than Harry had expected, they were spiraling down into the valley that contained Stepenwolv. There was a crowd of people, much unlike the last time, waiting near the launch. Several of them trotted forward, as the rest remained in small knots of conversation and argument, judging by the oft-raised voices.   
  
"Was what they told us right, Tala?" A middle aged wizard in a jumper and corduroys asked hurriedly as they dismounted. His jumper was oddly twisted, as though he had been worrying it in his hands before they arrived.   
  
Tala's face was tense, and when she spoke, her voice was tight. "Straighten your sweater, Carl." He frowned petulantly and she sighed. "Yes, Accalon Tristin saw me in the streets, he recognized Harry." She glared around at the group. "Why was I not informed that Tristin was out of prison?" She demanded.  
  
Most raised their hands, showing they hadn't know, but her father, Hurst, walked forward, Moody, who had formed a friendship with the wizard, stumping along at his side, his clawed wooden foot sinking into the soft dirt at each step.  
  
"I knew, but last I heard he was on the East coast." He told her smoothly.   
  
"Still, you should have told me." She snapped. "Tristin is a dangerous man, he should not have gotten out at all!"   
  
"May I ask," Hermione broke in hesitantly, "Who this man, 'Tristin' is?"  
  
Tala turned on her, her mouth tight. She looked out over the girl's head, and Harry turned to see what she was looking at. What he saw was Sarven surrounded by a knot of his friends. None of them were talking, just lending him strength with their presence, Harry assumed.   
  
"Tristin," she said finally, "murdered a woman almost ten years ago, and tried to kill another in the process. He claimed it was an accident, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary." Hermione turned pale.   
  
She turned again, her mouth white with fury, and Lupin, who had been listening quietly, squeezed her arm. She covered his hand with her long, coppery fingers. "Which is why I didn't expect to see him. What abysmally foolish things have been going on since I left?" A couple of the residents quailed at the venom in her tone.  
  
Her father shook his head and, throwing his arm around her shoulders, led her away, talking to her in a low, intense, voice. Harry strained to hear what he was saying, but from the paling of Tala's face he knew it could not be good. He caught the words, "...appeals...influence..." And "...new 'evidence'."   
  
"Ridiculous!" Tala fumed. "Absolutely unconscionable!"   
  
Lupin turned to Harry, his voice very quiet. "Harry, I need you to go to the house, all of you, and pack quickly." He included the others in his serious look. "We will need to be ready to leave at any moment."  
  
Harry and the others nodded, and walked quickly off towards the house as Lupin trotted over to the group Tala was talking to, gesticulating emphatically, her face horribly angry.  
  
"Who do you think she was?" Ron asked quietly of the open air. Harry saw Ginny look over her shoulder to where Mitexi was leaning on Sarven's shoulder, stroking his hand comfortingly.   
  
"His wife, it seems." She said, her voice strained and cold. Harry understood her feelings completely. They all rather liked the very un-Snape-like Snape look-alike.   
  
"I think you're right." Hermione agreed with her. "But it makes me wonder," Harry gave her a questioning glance. "Who Sarven is, exactly."  
  
"If I thought it were possible, I'd say he were Snape's son." Harry said.   
  
Ron let out a great guffaw of laughter. Hermione glared at him.  
  
"This is hardly the time." The young witch said angrily, snatching her hand from his. "But I agree that is an unlikely possibility. However, the resemblance IS stunning. Perhaps a nephew, a cousin? Do you know if Snape has, had, any brothers or sisters?"  
  
They all shrugged, showing their ignorance of the family, or pretty much anything else, of the secretive man. Ron's face was contorting, considering possibilities that were all pretty distasteful.  
  
"Can you imagine what a sister of Snape would look like?" He protested. He did, though, have the good grace to flush when Hermione glared at him again.   
  
"Watch it, Ron." She almost snarled, "You may be insulting Sarven's mother, who, might I remind you, may have been murdered."  
  
Ron reddened even more, his face resembling very much a pomegranate, and became very interested in studying where he was setting his shoes on the path. "Sorry, 'Mione." He mumbled. She sniffed huffily, folding her arms across her chest.   
  
Thankfully, they soon reached the house, and any further discussions were quelled as they retreated to their respective rooms to throw everything back into their duffel bags.   
  
Soon, as Harry was piling the last of his books in the bag, and Ron was searching for his quill, they heard someone pounding up the stairs. It was Genner, they saw when they opened the door, his brown hair mussed and his face flushed. He looked excited and worried at the same time.   
  
"All set?" He asked in a rushed voice. "Good, we'll gather the girls, then everyone to the launch." They slung their bags over their shoulders and followed him, getting the girls from their rooms, then trooping down the stairs.   
  
"What's going on?" Ron asked, as they made their way out of the lopsided farm house and across the tangled lawns. By the carefully groomed launch it seemed like the entire population had gathered. Harry counted at least ten of them also carrying brooms, and noted that quite a few of those were with them when they made their fateful trip to Ambersville.   
  
"We're going to fight." Genner said briefly, his face almost boyish with anticipation. "We're going to England to help you fight."   
  
Harry blanched, more to worry about. "You shouldn't be so excited," He said, trying and failing to keep the harshness out of his voice. "It's dangerous. People die, people you care about." He stopped, and the concerned young man turned to face him. "People you love. Don't be excited about it, Genner. I know, I know it first-hand. It's horrible, it's terrifying!" His voice was rising with every statement. Genner made to interrupt, but Harry waved him to silence.  
  
He fumbled in his pockets for the picture of the original Order. He pulled it out, thrusting it at Genner. "Look, look at this closely! Less than half of the people in this picture survived the last war." He poked the picture, intentionally hitting the picture of Pettigrew in the face. "My mother and father, my godfather." He ground his teeth, and looked down, willing the moisture to leave the corners of his eyes.  
  
He took the picture back, staring at it for a moment before stowing it carefully in his pocket.  
  
Genner was looking at him seriously, apparently unperturbed by Harry's outburst. "I apologize, Harry, if my eagerness offended you." He said quietly. "I am well aware of the dangers, and believe me, as an Auror, I am well-prepared."   
  
Harry turned bright red in embarrassment. Genner noticed and clasped his upper arm gently, his hazel eyes compassionate. "Harry," Genner continued, "My eagerness could be translated like you thought, but what I am looking forward to is making a difference."   
  
"I..." Harry started, his anger dissipating. Genner nodded and squeezed his arm.   
  
"I'm used to these little outbursts," He said, some amusement returning to his face before he turned to lead them on. "Happens when you have Sarven as a best friend. Usually very even tempered, but get him mad..." A wry chuckle. "He can snap your head of in an instant."  
  
Harry hung back, still embarrassed, and he looked down to see Ginny looking up at him sadly.  
  
"I had no idea he was an Auror, either, Harry." She said quietly.   
  
"Nor I, mate." Ron whispered over his shoulder. "Doesn't seem the type."  
  
"Like Tonks is?" Hermione sniffed, and Harry stifled a chuckle at the thought of the accident prone metamorphmagus.   
  
Still, despite their reassurances, Harry was relieved when they reached the rest of the group. They were looking serious and expectant, a few faces showing the eagerness that Genner had displayed.   
  
Remus was standing towards the front conversing with Hurst and Mingan. "...More than I expected," He was saying.   
  
Mingan shook his head. "We're not so cut off that we don't know what's going on in the world." He said ruminatively in his gravelly voice. "We have been concerned for a while, 'specially since my sister is over there where all the trouble is."  
  
"We expect you to take good care of her." Hurst added.   
  
"Tala can take care of herself, she probably wouldn't appreciate it if I tried to wrap her in cotton and stick her in a holding chest." Remus said with a wry look, "But I'll try."   
  
"Stop ganging up on the young one, boys." Chepi said with a feral grin that looked so much like her grandson Tainn's. Reminded of the exuberant young man, Harry looked over and spotted him in the crowd, but he wasn't holding a broom.  
  
Chepi noticed his glance. "He'll be coming along later, needs to speak with Tony, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, before he can leave."   
  
Harry nodded understandingly. "What about the others? Don't they have jobs?"  
  
Chepi gave a wry and somewhat grotesque grimace, twisting the scars that marked her face. "Most of them work for the Assembly. But they're not waiting for those old stiff shorts..."  
  
"Hey, mom!" Mingan protested, and Harry recalled that he himself worked for the Assembly.   
  
"...to get off their behinds and take action." Chepi continued, ignoring her son's dark looks. She turned to the group from England. "They will be accompanying you on the train and to the coast, where you will take to ship and they will be apparating to go to, well, the Ministry, I suppose."   
  
She looked to Remus for confirmation and he shrugged. "We'll discuss it and decide exactly what we're going to do during our journey. We will stop to have a word with President Godfreight, but he...well, he reminds me of Dumbledore." He looked at the group to see Hermione nod in understanding. "So I believe he will be supportive."  
  
Ginny was talking quietly with Hurst, and he saw her eyes widen as she nodded to something he said. He moved closer and Ginny and the older, very scarred wizard smiled at him.  
  
"Young lady was asking about security precautions for the valley. Very practical." Ginny blushed warmly. Harry grinned at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "We have had emergency measures in place for quite some time. All that is left to do is for Ming and I to set them in place. He gestured with his tall staff as he spoke, and Harry eyed it.  
  
He had wondered about the staff for a while, but had curbed his questions, remembering Mingan wielding one around in a fierce display the morning of Remus' wedding. He expressed his curiosity, and to his surprise, Hurst looked serious for a moment.   
  
"Ah, my son and I are some of the last that follow the old way."  
  
"Old way?" Hermione inquired, for she had wandered over to see what they were talking about.   
  
"Staff mages." Hurst provided. "More power than wands, but most people don't like them because of the skill it requires to wield them with precision." He shrugged, "Someone has to keep the old traditions alive."  
  
A bit later the group was called over to join those who were accompanying them back to England, and Mitexi made introductions all around.   
  
"This is Valhalla." She introduced a willowy woman with skin the color of a warm chestnut. Her hair was blond and cut so short that it curled tightly against her head.   
  
She nodded at them with a small smile, "My name is Valerie Hallaran, actually. Tric saw fit to re-name me."   
  
Tric grinned. "Valhalla suits you better."  
  
Mitexi continued introductions.   
  
"These two are Harvan and Colum Posensky." She nodded at a pair of fraternal twins, one with light, silvery hair the other with dirty blond. Though they didn't look exactly alike, the young men's manners were very close. "Dresca Monders." The tall, Latino looking witch nodded. "Abrose Nomerson." A non-descript, rather short wizard with a goatee waved. "Jihn and Winston Zephyr." The married couple said hello and shook hands before resuming a conversation with another resident.   
  
"And this is Umbers Godfry." She introduced the final member, a very tall, almost painfully slim young man with green-charmed hair and a stud in his eyebrow.   
  
"Nice to meet you all," Harry said finally. He could not bring himself to say he was glad they were coming. More people to fill that picture for the future.   
  
"It's very good to meet you, too, Harry, Ginny..." Harvan said.   
  
"...Hermione, Ron." Colum continued. "Formally, that is."  
  
Ron didn't look all that happy, the silver-haired Colum was the young werewolf who stole Hermione away for the last dance on the day of the wedding. Colum grinned at her, and the lanky red-head moved to take her hand. She gave him a withering look but allowed it.   
  
"All right!" Hurst bellowed from a short distance away. "All those who are departing get off the ground."   
  
Harry gave him an odd look, but obliged, making sure that Cord and Durry were secure on his wrist and shoulder. He saw Tainn, who didn't have his broom, swing up behind Valhalla.   
  
Tala was saying goodbye to her father and mother, she kissed her brother on his cheek. Mingan said, "Be safe, Sis," and gave her a hug.  
  
She had tears in her eyes when she mounted her broom and pulled up to hover beside Remus.   
  
They all watched with some interest as Hurst and Mingan strode to the center of a cleared area, their robes flowing behind them and their mage staffs held tightly in hand. Harry thought the sight was rather impressive, as they turned to each other, and raised their staffs.  
  
Chepi glanced over at them, and Harry could see a tear track down her scar-lined face. "Good luck, Harry." She whispered.   
  
"Encasasealum Snow Valley!" Mingan and Hurst bellowed in unison, twisting and striking the ends of their long oaken and sequoia staffs against the ground. Harry, without thinking, pulled his Firebolt up and farther away from the ground, his eyes wide and staring.   
  
From the point where their staffs had touched the verdant grass, a change was spreading across the ground. The green turned to brown, the forests melted away, leaving scrub. The houses became piles of stone and rotting wood. The river dried, and the stones became dusty and warm-looking in the sunlight. The air became warmer, hot, stifling.   
  
Harry heard someone gasp behind him, but could not tear his eyes away. Even the rest of the residents, some waving, some calling out farewells, were melting into nothingness. Finally, even Hurst melted away, and only Mingan, a grim look on his face, remained standing in the dusty remains of the beautiful valley.   
  
"What did they do?" Ron asked shrilly, as Valhalla descended and Tainn hopped off, raising a cloud of dust.   
  
"A concealing spell." Mingan said, approaching them. He ran his hand over his glossy hair, looking tired. "It's all still here, but anyone who comes here, be they wishing ill or no, will see this." He gestured with his staff. "You can enter, but only if you know the charm to allow you to pass into it. You all do know it?" The group from the Facility nodded, but Harry thought they looked shaken.   
  
"I will be Apparating to the Assembly in a few days." He continued. "I expect you will already have passed through." His hand gripped his staff in a white-knuckled grip as he leaned on it. "Dad's old railcar will be waiting for you. I won't be needing it for a while." He nodded to them all, "Good luck." Harry saw the muscles in his jaw ripple as his gaze moved from Tainn to Mitexi, but he said nothing more except to murmur a word under his breath. He vanished.   
  
"Well!" Tainn said cheerfully. "See you on the other side!" He went wolf and bounded off into the mountains.   
  
"Tony lives out there." Texi provided. "Well, shall we go?"   
  
They all nodded, and took to the sky, leaving what was the Stepenwolv Research Facility behind them, heading out to whatever the next day held.  
  
Read and review. 


	14. Chapter 14: Nicknames

I own not the world that is Harry Potter's and when I say Harry Potter I refer to the Harry Potter owned by one J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 14: Nicknames  
  
Remus had gone off to find their intrepid Captain Joseph when the rest of the group from Stepenwolv took their leave of the others on the dimly lighted midnight docks. After a period of stretching cramped muscles, they had all been in close quarters on the train, they shook hands all around and Harry even got hugs from Valhalla, Dresca and Mitexi. When Tric went to give him a hug as well, she drew back and looked at him seriously for a moment.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked in apprehension, worried that Genner had imparted to her the little diatribe Harry had given the young Auror the day before.   
  
But she grinned, "You need a nickname." She said, her voice very solemn despite her happy expression. "Your friends have gotten theirs already, honest to goodness Tric brand nicknames." This with a wink, "That's trademarked by the way."   
  
Harry glanced over his shoulder at his friends, and found them all looking rather sheepish.   
  
"I'm Red." Ron mumbled. He turned the color of his nickname. His name proved to be the most obvious of them all.  
  
"She named me Meow." Hermione supplied in a suffering voice. "She said my name...with some variations...sounds like meow."   
  
"I'm Tonic." Ginny added. She shrugged at Harry's questioning look. "She took a while to decide."   
  
Tric was walking around the young man with the messy black hair, peering at him from all angles as though looking for a clue to his true name. "I have a feeling yours isn't obvious," she murmured to herself. "It's something you seek to hide, some part of you that you rather like, but don't like to be known for." She brushed his hair back from his forehead, with a triumphant smile. "I will call you Scar."  
  
Everyone applauded, as though Tric had performed some miraculous feat. She bowed in response, sweeping her arms out with a flourish. "Don't worry, Scar," she added, "It's a private nickname between all of us. As a matter of fact, Sarven made it quite clear that his nickname would be held in utmost secrecy unless I wished to really have four eyes." She pushed her glasses down so she could peer over the top of the lenses and waggled her eyebrows at him.  
  
Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or to scowl and tell her that he shared Sarven's feelings on the matter. He had always been under the impression that the only people who were called Scar were in motorcycle gangs or convicts with lots of tattoos. But he merely nodded, with a small smile, grateful when his professor returned with a slightly swaying Joseph in tow.   
  
"Are you all right, Captain?" Hermione asked in concern.   
  
"Perfectly well." He replied expansively, but Harry noted when he took a small vial of potion out of his sash and downed the contents. He stopped swaying. "You are early. Trouble?"   
  
Harry wondered how much he knew. He glanced at Remus. "Some trouble," The werewolf supplied. "But we are certain you will be able to handle anything that comes up."  
  
"Of course, of course!" He grinned, eyeing the ladies in that rakish manner that made boyfriends and even husbands scowl and move closer to their women. His gaze fell on Sarven, moved past, then swept back. His eyes grew wide and he stepped back involuntarily. "Bloody hell!" He said. "They've gone and done it, haven't they?"  
  
"Done what?" Sarven asked in his silky voice. Joseph jumped.   
  
"Bet it was you, sir, wasn't it!" He seemed torn between excitement and trepidation. "A reverse aging potion! Never thought I'd see the day, professor."   
  
"I'm not a professor." Sarven said bleakly. "You are mistaken."  
  
Joseph looked at the English delegation for affirmation. They nodded.  
  
"This is Sarven, Captain." Remus provided.  
  
"I'll be...anyone ever tell you that you look like a bloke named Severu..."  
  
"So I've been told." Sarven cut him off bleakly.   
  
Joseph seemed to take the hint. With a last curious glance, he turned to Remus and Tala. "Are they joining you? Because that'll be..."  
  
"No, they will be Apparating. It's just those of us who made the trip over here." Tala provided.   
  
"Most unfortunate," Joseph the Pirate said jauntily, with a sparkling grin at the ladies from Stepenwolv. Dresca blushed, the others laughed. He sauntered over to her, sensing opportunity, as they said a few more words to Mitexi and Sarven.   
  
"You remember what you all are supposed to do?" Moody grunted at them.   
  
"Yes, Al." Mitexi answered, a small mischievous smile crossing her face as she caught their glances. "Two of us to your house to make sure it's secure, that's the Zephyrs, another four to the ministry, that'd be Harvan and Colum, Dresca and Valhalla. Harvan and Colum will be getting in contact with your dad, Ron, and the girls will be looking for Tonks and Kingsley. Sarven and I are to make contact with Dumbledore, and Tainn will be..." She paused, her eyes distant, "Joining us." She finished.  
  
"How do you know? He wasn't with us when we made the decisions." Harry asked.   
  
"I just told him." She smiled. "Distance doesn't matter if I want to talk to my brother." She glanced over at Dresca, who was smiled shyly at Captain Joseph as she tucked her long black hair behind her ear, giggling softly at something he said. "Charming fellow, isn't he."   
  
Sarven grimaced and pulled her closer to his side. She laughed a soundless laugh and touched his shoulder with gentle fingers. "Well, I'd best go rescue her so we can get going."  
  
"Hope she appreciates getting rescued." Ginny commented, and Texi gave her a wink before they moved off.   
  
The ride from Stepenwolv to the port at Plymouth had been a great deal of fun, all of the riders in good spirits despite being in close quarters, having only the Snowfoot's car and one other available as they had had to catch an earlier train.   
  
Harry and Ron had given up their beds for the Zephyrs, a very nice couple who had a grown son working for the ministry and a daughter in her last year at Sundonoma. They had moved to Stepenwolv when Winston had been bitten. He had graying ash brown hair and a genial face. His wife, Jihn, was a slender, serious woman with dark eyes and black hair with wings of white at her temples.   
  
Their reasons for joining the fight were not quite clear, but Harry got the impression that something had happened during the last war that steeled their resolve to do all that they could.   
  
They shared their car with Tala, Remus and Moody. The rest were all crowded into the other car. They were grateful that it had largely been empty, as it had rarely been used. It was still quite close, what with their spreading of squashy sleeping bags on the floor, contorting themselves around the only furnishing, a short round table.   
  
Harry had not been looking forward to sleeping on the hard, shaking floor. Despite the cushion of the sleeping bags, he was sure that they would not be spending a very comfortable night. But as the sun went down, and after several hours of Valhalla trying to teach them a complicated card game played with exploding cards, they all felt the strain of traveling overtake them.   
  
It was then that the older magicians showed that they had thought about sleeping on the floor of the train and had found the prospect quite as distasteful as he. It was Sarven who charmed Harry's sleeping bag, and he watched closely, always eager to learn new, useful spells.   
  
He used the Wingardium Leviosa charm to make the bag come to a hover only a few inches above the tossing floor. Then he murmured, "Staiso." And the bag stayed there, even when Harry climbed in later and curled up. Sleeping on air, he thought sleepily, was almost too wonderfully comfortable. It didn't take long for all of them to drift off, drifting around the floor as they did. It was enough to inspire a sleep so deep that even when they bumped into each other, no one woke.   
  
They didn't stay long at the Assembly. President Godfreight had been waiting for them at the tunnel-like station, and Remus had only climbed down the stairs for a few moments of deep discussion before he returned. Godfreight smiled at all of them when they hung out the windows to wave goodbye, wishing them good luck as the train pulled out. Harry saw him turn and address a few people who had arrived to take the train, placating them as they looked astonished at the unscheduled departure.   
  
The trip had been almost too uneventful, and Harry knew that the others shared his unease. Ron had taken to jumping at loud noises and Hermione had begun keeping her hand in her pocket, clutched around her wand.   
  
The rest seemed rather calm, though Mitexi was looking pale, and they never saw her far from Sarven's side. He himself looked grim, and Harry thought he would almost welcome an attack, just for the opportunity of perhaps getting his hands on his stepfather.   
  
But the chance had never presented itself, and now, as they made their farewells, one more trip loomed ahead of them. For Harry and his friends, it would be going home, for the others, it would be going to fight in a foreign land. Solemn faces showed that they felt the gravity of it as well.   
  
They stayed standing in a small cluster on the dock as Harry, and the rest who had had trouble before, took a draft to ward off seasickness, shouldered their luggage and climbed the rickety gangplank to the deck. Tala practically ran below, her face pale, and Remus followed her. The rest remained at the rail, watching the shore of America disappear behind them.   
  
They remained, their eyes scanning the abandoned pier, even as Joseph pulled away from the dock and set out from sea. Harry could see the Stepenwolv contingent doing the same. Only when they were almost out of sight did they hear several bangs of Apparation, and Harry could no longer see the small dark knot on the boards of the pier. A moment later, their ship made its own 'BANG' and Harry gripped a cleat convulsively as Captain Joseph started laying false trails, this time singing sea chanteys at the top of his lungs in his perfect good spirits.   
  
Harry gritted his teeth and turned his face into the salt spray, seeing Ginny take her place in the bow, her face turned up to watch the stars race by overhead. He sighed and moved towards the door that led below-decks, intending to sleep as much as possible during their interminable trip.   
  
Please, please, please review. 


	15. Chapter 15: Apparation

Harry Potter is owned by J.K, Rowling. The only things I own are the story and my original characters.   
  
Chapter 15: Apparation  
  
Harry had to stifle a yawn when Remus woke him in the wee hours of the morning. He sat up in his rocking bunk, pushing aside the bedclothes and running his hand through his rumpled hair, only succeeding in mussing it more. Moody was already sitting in one of the chairs, peering moodily into a steaming mug of tea. Ginny was still laying in her own bunk, her feet hanging over the side. It looked as though she had made some effort to get up, but had given up halfway there.   
  
Harry looked over at Ron and found him sitting up, his eyes still closed. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought his friend had fallen asleep sitting up. Hermione was missing. Harry assumed that she had already gone up on deck. She had always been more of a morning person than the rest of them, after all. Tala was still a lump beneath the blankets. Harry gathered that Remus would rather not wake her until it was absolutely necessary.  
  
He rubbed his eyes and picked up his glasses. Then, after pulling on his dressing gown, made his way to the bathroom to freshen and dress. The bathroom on the ship was not as one would expect. In some ways it reminded him of the one the prefects used. There was a large bathtub with many faucets, and a shower big enough to fit five people comfortably. He thought it curious that their room, rather small and rustic, should be attached to such an opulent bath.  
  
He finally emerged, pulling his robes straight, and found Ginny waiting outside the door, her eyelids heavy as she walked past him, not seeming to notice him at all. He shrugged and joined Moody at the table, where some plates of eggs and sausages appeared. Harry helped himself to a mug of tea as Moody nodded good morning. While he was finishing up as large a plate as he could under the circumstances, Hermione entered, her cheeks pink from the wind and her hair in a wild tangle around her shoulders. She smelled of sea salt and fresh breezes.  
  
"Morning, Hermione," He greeted her. She returned the greetings, going over to wake Ron, who, it seemed, really had fallen asleep sitting up. Harry took a deep breath, inhaling the slightly dusty smell of their shared cabin, as he stood and stretched. Durry looked up from Harry's abandoned bunk and chirped questioningly. Harry picked him up and petted him, causing the little creature to turn a contented blue. Cord lifted his head from the pillow and Harry picked him up as well.   
  
The small snake had professed hunger the night before and had disappeared amidships to hunt. He returned a little fatter and much happier. Harry preferred not to think about whatever small, hapless creature that had become Cord's dinner.  
  
He was just throwing his pajamas into his duffel bag when Ginny, looking much more awake, emerged from the palatial bathroom and, snagging a bagel from the table, headed out the door. Harry followed after her.  
  
He was faring better this trip than he had the last. The rocking motion was still rather unsettling, but he didn't feel like he was going to pitch over the side at any moment. He made his way up the ladder, beginning to hear the voice of Captain Joseph booming above the wind. It wasn't until he was on deck that he could make out the words of the song their Captain was singing.   
  
"Our anchor we'll weigh, And our sails we will set. Goodbye, fare-ye-well, Goodbye, fare-ye-well. The friends we are leaving, We leave with regret, Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound. We're homeward bound. Oh joyful sound! Goodbye, fare-ye-well, Goodbye, fare-ye-well. Come rally the capstan, And run quick around..." He didn't pause in his song even as he greeted Harry with a smile and a wave.   
  
Harry weakly smiled back, and Cord said in a rather uncomfortable voice, "I do not like this place, it moves much."  
  
"Yes," Harry said in a hiss, "But we will be reaching the shores soon, and hopefully we will never have to set...foot...on this ship again."   
  
"This is good." Cord replied. "Where do we go next?"  
  
"Back to Remus'."  
  
"The male with the strange dual scent." Cord almost seemed to say thoughtfully. "There were many with the same smell at that other place."  
  
"I hadn't noticed." Harry told him.  
  
"You should taste the scents with your tongue," The snake said helpfully. "It is better."  
  
Harry blanched as he leaned against the rail near the bow. "Er...I don't think that would work."  
  
"Ah." The snake replied. And this seemed to end his conversational mood. He often seemed displeased that his master didn't manifest more snake-like tendencies other than parseltongue. He dipped his head back beneath Harry's sleeve.   
  
He wasn't sure how long he had been standing there when Remus appeared at his side. He had rarely been above in the two trips that they had made, despite his being largely unaffected by the tossing of the ship. He leaned beside Harry, inhaling the scent of the sea deeply.   
  
"Smell that?" He asked, turning to the young man and smiling mildly.   
  
Harry took a whiff but all he could smell was the familiar odor of the salt spray. He told Remus so. His friend and former professor made a sort of wry face. "I forget." He told Harry ruefully. "My sense of smell is very acute."   
  
"Well, what is it?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"I smell land." Remus told him, "It won't be long now." He made a face as though he could not decide whether he was happy or not about it. Harry looked at his face closely as his friend turned his face towards where the horizon was lightening, expecting to see the shore of Landing come into sight at any moment.  
  
He looked younger than he remembered, Harry thought, the lines of his face, put there by worry, eased, and his amber eyes had lost that tired look that Harry was used to seeing. He looked tanned and cheerful in his mild sort of way, the sleeves of his worn robes rolled up around his forearms, his cloak whipping in the wind.   
  
It was then that Harry noticed what really made the difference in his former professor, he was relaxed. Always before there had been a certain tension in him, but right now, with the sea breeze and Captain Joseph's rather fine singing voice ringing through the silver air (The maiden, oh, the maiden oh. The sailor loves the maiden, oh! So early in the morning, The sailor loves the maiden, oh! A maid that is young, A maid that is fair, A maid that is kind and pleasant, oh, So early in the morning, The sailor loves the maiden, oh!...), he looked natural and content. Harry smiled, shaking his head, unnoticed by Remus. He was glad that his father's friend was finally happy.  
  
Harry wasn't sure how long the two of them stood there, watching the waves beat against the hull, it seemed interminable. But then Remus was turning and making his way back down the deck, heading back to the cabin. He made sure that Harry had packed before he wandered off to make sure everyone else was. He also asked Harry to make sure Ginny was packed as well. And as he disappeared below, Harry grimaced and wobbled up to the bow, where he was more aware than ever of the tossing of the ship.   
  
"Ginny, oy, Ginny!" He called when he judged he was within hearing distance. She didn't seem to hear, "Hey, Tonic!"   
  
She turned and looked about curiously, catching at her hair as the wind blew it across her face. "What is it, Harry?" She asked loudly.   
  
"Are you packed?"   
  
"Yeah, I did it before I came out, the professor said we'd be reaching Landing today." She said a trifle impatiently as Harry came closer. "Are you packed?"  
  
"Yeah." He replied. After a pause, "Is there something wrong, Ginny?"  
  
She looked at him for a long moment before answering. "I like the sea," She said a trifle sadly, "I'll be sorry to leave it." She laughed ruefully. "You know, I always wanted to live by the sea. One of my Uncles has a small cottage on the cliffs in Scotland. Some of my fondest memories are from that cottage." She smiled at him. "Someday, maybe."   
  
Harry didn't know what to say to this little insight into the red-head's thought processes, but somehow he could see her, older, her arms full of flowers, her hair loose about her shoulders, walking along the cliffs in a long green dress. The clarity of this vision was almost startling. He turned away to hide his own expression. Ginny didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Look Harry, I can see Landing." She called out. Harry glanced out, following her pointing finger, thinking that she looked like a carved ship's figurehead. Indeed, there was Landing, lying low and gray, swathed in mists.   
  
He nodded, "I'm going to go let the others know." He told her. She waved at him distractedly.   
  
He didn't see it coming, his back turned to the shore, trying to make his way back. The only warning he had was a sudden, harsh noise from Durry. He looked down to see the small creature turn pitch black. He made the noise again, and spread his wings, digging his blunt nails into Harry shoulder, and flapping his wings, pulling him off balance. "Durry! What...?" He cried, trying to grab the small creature.   
  
Just then, someone ran into him, throwing him to the side. Just in time for at that moment the planks on which he had been standing exploded in a rush of burning wood.   
  
"Harry!" He heard, as he rose to his hands and knees, shaking his head to try and get it back into working order. It was Ron's voice. Harry looked down, seeing Ginny next to him. Ron rushed to him, heedless of the heaving deck, "Harry are you all right."  
  
"Fine," He coughed, "Look to Ginny." He had lied. His head was ringing and it felt as though he couldn't stand if he tried. But his concern over Ginny reigned over any of that.  
  
Hermione, who had run out after Ron, was lifting Ginny to a sitting position. She looked as dazed as Harry felt. "Is Harry alright? He alright?" She mumbled thickly. "It was coming...right for him."  
  
"What was?" Ron asked shrilly. "What happened?" As if in answer another blast rocked the ship.   
  
"Batten down! Batten down!" Joseph bellowed, "Incoming!" The ship veered wildly, and they all grabbed onto whatever seemed to be nailed down. Another blast jolted them heavily.   
  
Remus, Tala and Moody skidded up on deck, looked around for half an instant, long enough to take it all in, then Remus bolted back down and Tala and Moody ran for the young, wild-eyed group.   
  
"Is everyone okay?" Tala shouted.   
  
"Ginny's stunned, and I think Harry might've gotten a bit of it when she pushed him out of the way. But they'll be fine." Hermione called back, wincing as another explosion rocked the ship.   
  
Joseph the Pirate's curses were long and inspired. "Bastards took out the rudder." He yelled, releasing the useless helm. "She'll not hold long." Utter fury painted his genial face. Moody had his wand out, but with the lack of visible targets, all he could do was raise a shield over the group whenever another blast came in.   
  
Remus came pelting back up, holding all their things in his arms. He released Pig, and Hedwig after pausing a moment to attach a hastily scribbled note to each of their legs.  
  
"Are we taking our brooms?" Ron asked, his eyes wide and frightened.  
  
"And give them a moving target." Moody growled. "Think, boy!"   
  
Ron flushed, and he looked down. "Need a hand Harry?"   
  
"Yeah, I think...yes, I think I can..." Harry stood, holding to Ron's shoulder as his head swum. He looked to Ginny in concern, relieved to see her standing as well.   
  
"What do we do, then?" Hermione asked Moody. He swayed. The wild pitching was not making regaining his equilibrium any easier. The old Auror was deep in conversation with Tala. She was looking doubtful as he thumped one fist into the palm of his hand to emphasize his point. After a few moments she nodded in reluctant agreement.   
  
Remus finished handing out bags, then joined them, still holding their brooms in his arms. He didn't seem to like the idea any more than Tala did, but he agreed as well, the grooves on his face appearing again. He pulled out his wand, clumsily, as he still had all the brooms in his hands, and waved it over to brooms. They rose to a hover, still bunched as he had held them, then took off like a shot, heading inland, but at a sharp angle, taking them north.  
  
Ron looked horrified. "My...broom..."  
  
"Don't worry Ron, they'll be fine." Remus said quickly. "We'll find them when we get to Hogwarts."  
  
"Hogwarts?!" Ron said, "But...how are we going to get there?!' His voice rose on every word, cracking occasionally.   
  
"We'll Apparate," Tala told him wearily.   
  
"Only way." Moody grunted in agreement.   
  
Harry felt his face go white. He remembered all too clearly the description that Ron's dad had given him of splinching. And wasn't Apparating difficult enough without trying to do two at once?   
  
Maybe they expected them to transport themselves. Harry had a brief vision of himself somewhere in Siberia, well, most of himself, as he had been splinched. He shuddered horribly, gulping down the bile rising in his throat. Durry wasn't helping, still making that awful noise that scratched Harry's eardrums.   
  
Suddenly he was aware of someone stroking his back. He looked up in surprise. Tala was standing next to him, a reassuring smile on her face, her hand gentle on the back of his robes. She didn't say anything, but he felt himself relaxing a bit. He wasn't used to such kind gestures.   
  
She tousled his hair playfully, then turned, "Joseph! Joseph?! We need you down here." A heavy pause, "What do you think you're doing?" It was amazing the way she made a shout sound terribly cold.   
  
Joseph was standing on his raised deck, having reclaimed the useless helm. He had a determined, almost suffocatingly heroic look on his face. He looked at Tala as though he were surprised that she had to ask. "Why, I'm going down with my ship." He said in an offhand way.  
  
"You are not." She yelled angrily. "Why on earth would you do such a stupid thing?"  
  
"But that's the way it's always been done." He protested with the air of a child having its favorite toy taken away.   
  
Tala proceeded to tell him, in expansive terms, what exactly she thought of that idea. The others would have been more impressed than they were if the ship wasn't still taking hits.   
  
"...And you will come down from there right now!" Tala finished in ringing tones.   
  
"But...my ship..." Joseph whined in much the same way Ron had about his broom, as he came reluctantly down to join them.   
  
"You'll get a new one." Tala snapped.   
  
Ron apparently finding some fellow feeling for their intrepid captain in their mutual pain, clasped his arm in fortifying way. Tala was still fuming and muttering under her breath. Harry was glad he could not hear what she was saying.   
  
"Good," Remus said, taking over as Moody took out his foe glass and peered into it, ignoring the splintering of the deck all around him. "Joseph, you take Ron, then. You are licensed, correct?" Joseph nodded. "Good, Tala, you take Ginny, Moody will take Hermione," Said girl eyed the grizzled Auror apprehensively. "I'll have Harry. We're going to Hogsmeade."   
  
He paused and looked them all the eye, and Moody, shaking his head, put away the foe glass. "Now you need to fix this in your minds, all of you..."   
  
He said very slowly and deliberately. "Hogsmeade, near the east corner of the Shrieking Shack." His face contorted briefly, "Where the road curves." They all repeated it dutifully after him. "Picture it as clearly as possible in your minds, all of you. You in particular, Ginny, since Tala hasn't been there it'll be more difficult for you. I'm entrusting Tala's safety to you." Ginny stood straighter, nodding to acknowledge the responsibility.   
  
"Everyone get ready, keep it in your minds." Moody said, taking a firm grip on Hermione. The rest followed suit. "Let's go." And with a bang, they left 'Ramien' wallowing in her death throes. And for a moment, just a moment before everything went blurry, Harry thought he saw a long slender neck rise out of the water, and that he could hear the soft keening of the giant companion of the defeated purple ship.  
  
  
  
Please review. 


	16. Chapter 16: Familiarity

I do not own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 16: Familiarity  
  
The closest that Harry could compare the experience of Apparating to, was looking at a distant spot through a low powered telescope, it was tiny and blurred, then, suddenly, the telescope was converted to a massive, high powered, observatory strength one, and it looked as though you were standing right at that spot. Then, you were there. It was a bit like using a port-key, but without the pull behind his navel. He would have pitched forward right onto his nose if Remus hadn't been holding onto him. Holding himself up may have been an apter term. Harry looked over his shoulder at his former Professor and found his face looking ashen.   
  
"Are you all right, Remus?" He asked in concern.  
  
"Will be in a moment, Harry." The werewolf replied, "It was quite a distance even at the best of conditions."  
  
Harry heard a bang, and Hermione and Moody, then Joseph and Ron appeared. The other two men looked tired, but not nearly as bad as Remus did.  
  
"Are you certain you're all right?" Harry asked again in concern. His professor seemed to be debating something inside his mind, finally he sighed.  
  
"It's just more difficult for me," He said tiredly, "Because of the instability of my makeup." He straightened, looking better, "I'll recover quickly, though." He looked around, seeing the corner of the Shrieking Shack, and the dusty street leading back into Hogsmeade, but there was no sign of Tala and Ginny. Remus suddenly looked gray again, and fear sparked in his eyes, when they heard a voice calling out from the other side of the Shack.   
  
He broke out into a run, the others following close behind, and they all heaved a sigh of relief when they rounded a corner and saw Tala and Ginny standing there, Tala looking easily as ashy as Remus had.   
  
She let out a huge breath and smiled, running to her husband and embracing him tightly. "I was worried," She murmured.  
  
"As was I." He said thickly, "But it looks like we've all gotten here in one piece."  
  
Harry gulped, the manner in which he said this showed that he had thought it a distinct possibility that they might not have. He was dimly aware of Moody and Joseph moving down towards Hosmeade, Moody's wand in hand and Joseph's fist clutching the hilt of his cutlass.  
  
After a last squeeze, Tala pulled back a bit from Remus to look around, "So, this is the place." Her voice was sad. Remus nodded, and looked very eager to leave behind the dilapidated shack and it's tangled lawns, not to mention the memories that the place held.   
  
"We'll just wait for Moody and Joseph to give an all clear, then I'm sure the captain will be wanting to go to the Ministry to file for a new ship, and we will want to go up to the castle." The werewolf said quietly, his own eyes moving warily around. Harry looked in the direction of Hogsmeade in time to see a spray of green sparks shoot up in the air. "All clear." Remus sighed. "We'd better get moving, I don't like being out in the open, even here. They would have known that, even if we didn't escape, there were only a few places we could have gone to. This is one of them." He looked worried as he led them off down the street. "I didn't think they would move so openly so soon, or I would never have..."  
  
"No, professor." Ginny interrupted, "You couldn't have know, but we wouldn't have wanted to miss your wedding, or meeting all of Tala's friends for the world. Don't regret it, sir."  
  
Remus looked at her in surprise and calculation. "You know, you remind me of someone I once knew. She would have said the same thing." His smile was tinged with sadness, and Tala, who was walking holding his arm, squeezed him gently. He refused to elaborate, though, as they moved in between the stores on the main street of Hogsmeade, heading towards the Three Broomsticks.   
  
Moody and Joseph were waiting outside the door, and, as the others joined them, they moved inside.  
  
The interior of the bar was much as he had remembered, Harry thought. But there were two faces there that he had not expected, one of them, half standing with a look of surprise on his face, was Abrose Nomerson, the other, looking at them with what could only be described as heavy-lidded indifference, lounging in his chair with his feet stretched out, was the green haired wizard, Umbers Godfrey.   
  
Harry had wondered where they had gotten to, when they had stopped at the Assembly, the two of them had gotten off and disappeared. When the train moved on, only a few minutes later, they were not on it. No one else had commented on it, so Harry figured that it had been planned.  
  
"Tala, everyone!" Abrose cried, "You're early! Come have a seat," he waved some more chairs to their table. Umbers merely nodded in boredom. They all sat down gingerly, most of them eager to get to the relative safety of Hogwarts grounds, the other, Captain Joseph, eager to get to the Ministry, where, as Remus had assured him, he would be able to procure a new ship.   
  
Remus filled the two men in about recent events, eliciting a cry of shock from Ambrose, and a raised eyebrow from Umbers, which, Harry was coming to believe, was almost a cry of shock as well, coming from the silent, emaciated wizard.   
  
"Was Hogsmeade really the best place?" Abrose asked.  
  
"Yes," Moody said with emphasis, "Here we are only a short walk from Hogwarts, and Dumbledore, last I heard from him, is here for a time."  
  
"I haven't seen him down here," Abrose said thoughtfully. "Have you, Rosmerta?" He smiled at the witch in stilettos, who had just emerged from a storeroom. She grinned back and strutted over, resting her hands on his shoulders.   
  
"I haven't seen him lately," She concurred, "But that's to be expected, what with..." She broke off with a shudder, and Abrose reached up to pat her hand. She smiled wanly, and looked around at them, "Now, I recognize most of you," She changed the subject, "But not you, Miss," She nodded at Tala, "Or you, young sir." This with a sly smile at Joseph.   
  
"Why, Rosmerta! I'm offended you don't remember me!" Joseph exclaimed with a twinkle. "The young man who was always trying to cozy up to you and trying to persuade you to sell me a fire-whisky?!" He took on an innocent look, "But Rosy dear, don't you agree I'm mature enough to be able to handle it?" He made his voice a childish falsetto and, astonishingly, recognition dawned in the Barkeeper's eyes.  
  
"My goodness! Young Joseph Clearwater! You've grown so much I didn't recognize you." Suddenly she shifted her posture and gave him a sultry look, "But I still don't think you're mature enough to handle it." She said in a husky voice.  
  
Joseph looked stunned for an instant, before breaking out into a great howl of laughter. When he could get control of himself, ignoring the astonished looks of his companions, he wiped a tear of mirth from his eye and said, half-regretfully and half in amusement, "I may be able to handle the Fire-Whisky, Rosy, my girl, but I doubt I'd ever be able to handle you."  
  
The adults, sans Umbers, laughed, Ginny and Hermione joining in after a moment. Harry and Ron exchanged glances.   
  
Rosmerta gave a knowing smirk before addressing herself to Tala. "And I know I don't know you?"   
  
"No, I've never been here before," She agreed, "I'm Tala Lupin."  
  
"I didn't know Remus had a sister, or are you his cousin?" Rosmerta said thoughtfully.   
  
"Neither, I'm his wife." Tala said with a tiny smile.  
  
Rosmerta's mouth dropped open. When the school had learned that Remus was a werewolf, the information had naturally trickled down to the town of Hogsmeade. Luckily, Dumbledore had said, he had managed to get the words of the residents that they would keep it to themselves as much as possible.   
  
"Y-you...he...?" She shook herself visibly. "Congratulations." She finally said with a smile. "You're American?" Tala nodded. "Well, you know, I remember Remus from when he was in school, always with James Potter and Sirius Black. The quiet one, but he was always the one with the best punch-lines." She ran a hand over her glistening hair. "Hard to forget." She said ruminatively. "I suppose it doesn't matter, no, it doesn't." She said firmly. "Congratulations again, I'm happy for you both." This was said with a ring of truth.   
  
"Thank you very much, Rosmerta." Lupin said with a smile.  
  
"So," She continued cheerfully, "What can I get for you all?"  
  
"Sorry, Rosmerta," Moody said, "But we need to get going up to the castle." He stood and the others followed suit, even Abrose and Umbers, and they followed him out the door.   
  
"How did it go," Tala asked Umbers and Abrose when they were again standing in the street of Hogsmeade.  
  
"Well, I suppose," Abrose answered, "I got to talk to who I needed to talk to." He nodded at Umbers, "I assume he did too, but he hasn't said two words since we Apparated."  
  
Umbers shrugged and nodded as well, though he held out a hand to make a so-so gesture.   
  
"And now?" The witch prompted.  
  
"I'm signing on as an assistant barkeeper at the Three Broomsticks." Abrose told her and she nodded in approval. "And again, I don't know what Umbers is doing. Tric nicknamed him Mystery with her usual acumen." He chuckled and looked at the greyhound slim wizard.  
  
"Not much for me to do around here." Umbers said shortly in a quiet tenor. There was something familiar about his voice, Harry thought, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.   
  
Tala nodded thoughtfully. While Abrose looked astounded that Umbers could string so many words together at once.   
  
"Perhaps we could talk to the owners of Honeydukes." Remus said  
  
Umbers looked doubtful, "Wouldn't it look unusual if both they and Rosmerta hired Americans over the summer? No, perhaps it is best if I lay low for a while and scout around." Abrose continued looking astounded.  
  
"Whatever you think best, Umbers. I trust your judgment." Tala told him with a smile.   
  
Umbers nodded without expression, back to his old, taciturn self.  
  
"Well," Moody commented as they left the two wizards behind, moving towards Hogwarts' front gates, "I should be getting to the Order headquarters, we need to make plans, now that Voldemort," Joseph flinched, Moody eyed him, "appears to be moving out into the open." He didn't bother to say good-bye before Disapparating.   
  
"See you, Al." Tala murmured to the place where he had been standing.   
  
"I need to get going, too." Joseph the pirate commented fiercely, "The Ministry owes me a ship." He took his time to say his farewells before he also disappeared.   
  
"He is quite the fellow," Hermione said with a chuckle and a sideways look at Ron. Ron shrugged, but could not entirely hide his displeasure. "I wonder if we'll ever see him again."  
  
"I'm sure we will," Tala told her, "He seemed quite taken with Dresca."  
  
"He seems to fancy any woman he encounters," Ron grumbled. But his comment seemed to please Hermione, Harry noticed, though she turned her head to hide her smile.   
  
He just didn't understand women, he thought, and that was the whole of it. Better to stick to simple things like Quidditch and Defense Against the Dark Arts. This struck a question in his mind as they walked the path up through the wide lawns to the front doors of Hogwarts.  
  
"Remus?" He asked.   
  
"Yes, Harry?"  
  
"Have you heard who is going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year?" The other students snapped to attention at this question, new teachers, particularly in this subject were of great concern to them.   
  
"Well, I know who it is, an old acquaintance of mine from the continent. I think you will be pleased." He said this with a smile.  
  
This did go a long way to reassuring the younger ones. They figured that if Remus thought they would be pleased, it was a good chance that they would be. They were a little worried, though, when he would provide no additional information. He did, however, assure them that the new teacher was nothing like Umbridge, amusing them when he transformed her surname into a much less flattering one.   
  
They were still chuckling when they reached the doors of the castle, and Remus knocked. A moment later the doors swung open, and there was Dumbledore, standing next to him the barkeeper of the Hogshead.   
  
Harry stared in astonishment. So that was why the bar keep had looked so familiar. Though lacking the long white beard and hair, and the half-moon glasses, the two of them looked a lot alike, almost as if they were... He dug the picture out of his pocket, glancing at it before tucking it away again and addressing the grumpy looking wizard.  
  
"Aberforth?" Harry asked in astonishment.  
  
"Yes, Harry." Dumbledore said with his usual cheerful, twinkling blue eyes. "This is my brother."  
  
"Charmed." Aberforth said shortly, before turning back to his brother, "Owl me if you need anything else, I can't be coming up here very often."  
  
"Of course, and it's always good to see you."   
  
Aberforth grunted and moved past the others, stumping his way down the path back to Hogsmeade.   
  
Dumbledore squinted after him, "He was unusually pleasant today, I wonder if he has a girlfriend." Harry decided he could not possibly be serious, and was given a wink that said Dumbledore knew what he was thinking. Then the old wizard grew serious.  
  
"The first, and by no means the last." He said soberly. "And by quick thinking we managed not to suffer any losses. Unfortunately this means that I will not be able to spend as much time with you as I would like before I have to go help deal with this." He glanced at Harry. "I have it on good information that Voldemort himself was not present at the time of the attack, and it was likely initiated by his followers. I, personally, do not think that he is quite prepared yet for open battles." He sighed, and suddenly looked tired, "Ministry wizards were there shortly, but by the time they arrived, the perpetrators were gone. Doubtless, Cornelius will be summoning me momentarily."   
  
He seemed to regain his energy from some unknown resource. "But until I must respond to him, let's talk about your trip. I assume you're happily married? Marvelous. I rather wish I could have been there, I do enjoy a good wedding. What else happened?"   
  
He led them into the castle, listening with a smile to their tales of adventuring in America.   
  
  
  
Please review, they're what keep me going on this fic. I would like to thank all of you for your encouragements, questions and comments. I am afraid that I may not be able to update as frequently as I would like, what with attending my final semester of college, but I will try to keep up with the story. I do know where I am going, and pretty much how I am going to get there, but your comments help me find the better path. Thank you. Kyokki. 


	17. Chapter 17: Meeting of Minds

I do not own Harry Potter and do not seek to make anything off of this little story. Special thanks to Seion, whenever he get around to reading this, for his help in making Snape nice and snarky.  
  
Chapter 17: Meeting of Minds  
  
The halls of Hogwarts seemed strange without all the other students. The only other times that it had been like this was during the winter holidays. But this time, not even the teachers were there. He wondered absently where they went during the summer as he sat at the table in the Gryffindor common room eating the lunch that the house elves, or rather, Dobby, had provided for him. Ron was sitting opposite, having quickly stuffed a couple servings of the food into his mouth. He was almost bouncing in his seat as he waited.   
  
"Almost done, Harry?" He asked, with somewhat excited trepidation, "We're going to explore the dungeons today."   
  
Over the past week they had searched the castle from top nearly to bottom, though quite a few of the doors were locked, such as the one to Filch's office. Harry would have dearly liked to have the opportunity to rummage through the drawer labeled, 'Confiscated and Extremely Dangerous'.   
  
Their most recent goal had been one that had struck them in a fit of inspiration and boredom. Harry and Ron had decided to explore and try and find the teacher's bedchambers, for no other reason other than curiosity. They had already found the Hufflepuff, a door with no handle, but a badger worked on the upper corner, and the Ravenclaw, guarded by a statue that seemed to be of Rowena Ravenclaw herself, common rooms.   
  
They had started looking for the chambers the day before, but had no luck. They already knew where most of the locked doors lead to, so they assumed that the chambers were a bit better hidden. Even so, they did not intend to give up yet, not with another whole week to waste before classes resumed.   
  
Harry shoved a slice of orange in his mouth, took a last swig of pumpkin juice, then followed Ron out. Their footsteps sounded loudly in the echoes of the cool-smelling halls, and Harry suddenly wished he had brought his invisibility cloak with him.   
  
The Zephyrs had brought their luggage from Remus' house a few days after they arrived, then had promptly left. Dumbledore, too, had been scarce over the last week, and as Tala, who had stayed to look after them, and make sure they didn't get themselves hurt or killed, was usually up in the library with Hermione doing research, they largely had the whole castle to themselves.   
  
Ginny was waiting for them in the entrance hall, leaning impatiently against the banister. Harry, true to his word, had taken to leaving Cord in his room, but still, every time she saw him her eyes still darted nervously down to peer at his left wrist. He was hurt that she didn't quite trust him. But then, the last time she had completely trusted him, she had gotten her ankle broken, and Sirius had gotten killed.   
  
Apparently she had reassured herself that he was snake free, because her face assumed an indignant expression and she planted her fists on her hips. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes," she said this with such certainty that Harry knew that she had recently checked her watch. "Where have you been?"   
  
Harry had to cover a chuckle with a cough. Just then she had reminded him so much of her mother that even Ron looked startled.  
  
"Harry was just finishing lunch." He said in a cowed voice, evidently trying to forestall a Mrs. Weasley-type lecture.  
  
"Yeah, sorry about that, Tonic." Harry grinned.  
  
Ginny eyed him archly, "Just remember not to call me that when classes start." She turned and made her way to the stairs leading down into the dungeons. "Well, are you coming?" she asked over her shoulder.   
  
Ron gave Harry an exasperated look as the two of them followed her quickly retreating footsteps down into the dank darkness of the dungeons.  
  
The torches lit and glowed with a flickering amber light as they made their way through the echoing halls. Ron looked a bit frightened, as though expecting something to swoop down on him at any moment. Harry also had to admit to a certain feeling of unease. This was, after all, Snape's territory, and he could sense his looming, sweeping presence in the shadows.   
  
Ginny, however, evidenced no such feelings as she poked her nose into the shadows and felt along the walls, opening any doors she came across. Harry had to admit, however, that he doubted very much that the entrance to Snape's rooms would be something so simple. He was, however fairly sure that Snape's chambers were somewhere past his office, judging by the conversation that he had overheard between Snape and Filch when he was sneaking down the stairs during his fourth year.  
  
"Now, what was it he said, again, Harry?" Ginny asked, apparently growing tired of poking in the shadows.  
  
Harry paused and thought, running his hand through his messy hair. "He said something about passing his office from his chambers on the way up to the first floor. I think." He shrugged, "I had a lot on my mind just then, death, expulsion..."  
  
"Which, according to Hermione, is a fate worse than death." Ron chimed in bemusedly. "And anyways, why are we looking for SNAPE'S chambers? I can not think of any reason why I'd want to know where he sleeps."  
  
"Come on, Ron." Ginny said with a smile, "It's the adventure of it. Besides, his chambers are the only ones that we have even a chance of finding. I wouldn't even know where to start with the others."  
  
"Then why didn't we just start with his?" Ron grumped, as Harry turned and tapped his wand on the statue of a very displeased looking wizard, the plaque on the stand read 'Jacobin the Annoyed.'   
  
"Because," Ginny flushed a bit, "I don't really care to know where he sleeps either. But, just think of what Fred and George would do if they knew where it was." She said this last bit with a mischievous smile.  
  
"Ginny, you're not planning..." Ron said fearfully. She waved a dismissive hand, cutting him off, but her older brother still looked a bit nervous.  
  
As they moved further down the hall, they continued checking for irregularities in the walls, or trick doors, statues that moved, or anything that seemed out of place.   
  
Ron tugged dispiritedly at an empty torch holder, while Ginny made sounds of wishing that there were some paintings that she could interrogate. Harry shook his head and sighed, leaning against the wall. He didn't really think that they would find it, he was certain that Snape would want his own chambers as inaccessible as possible. Who knew what he had in there.  
  
Harry knew that he didn't even want to guess. Knowing his luck it would either be a collection of shrunken heads of students who had failed his classes, or a large collection of teddy bears. He shuddered. He wasn't sure which would be the preferred discovery.   
  
"Hey Harry?" Ron sounded worried, "Where are you?"   
  
Harry furrowed his brow, he was right in front of Ron. "Can't you see me?"  
  
"No, but your voice sounds nearby..."  
  
Harry looked around him, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He shrugged and walked a few steps forward, wondering if he had wandered into a small invisibility field. He heard Ron gasp and stopped short. "What is it?"  
  
"Harry, you're half sticking out of the wall." Ron said quietly, his eyes focused on a point above Harry's head. Ginny, standing some way down the hall, was staring as well, looking as though she had stopped mid-tap.   
  
"Oh, well, we've found it then." He tried to sound enthusiastic as he walked out into the hall.  
  
"Er, but Harry, that's not all." His voice had dropped to somewhat of a squeaky whisper.   
  
"What is it?" But as Harry watched Ron's face drain of color and Ginny's widening eyes he began to get an inkling. He turned his head slowly, and, just as he had dreaded in the pit of his stomach, there stood Snape, glaring down at him as he emerged, like a very substantial, high-contrast ghost, from the wall.   
  
Harry gulped, opened his mouth, closed it, then gulped again.   
  
"Would one of you care to explain to me why you are down here?" He said in his cold, silky voice. He folded his arms over his chest, his black eyes glittering dangerously.   
  
"Er...we wanted to say hi, Professor." Ron stammered finally.  
  
Snape turned and quirked an eyebrow at him, Ron fairly cowered, "You were longing for my company?" He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Somehow I, doubt that." He included all three of them in his glare, then his expression turned mockingly contemplative. He stared at them in silence, tapping his long pale fingers against his lips, making them all squirm, though Harry felt a glare of his own appearing on his face.  
  
Finally, when the silence had stretched out to the professor's satisfaction he gave them a nasty smirk. "It would seem that in addition to courage; poking your nose into places where they don't belong and complete disregard for the rules have become Gryffindor traits. It is most fortunate, for you, that the term has not yet begun or else I would deduct so large a number of points from your house that it would be Christmas before they returned to positive, if at all." He told them coolly.   
  
"Yes, sir." Ginny said calmly, moving and ushering the boys past the irate Snape.   
  
"Oh, and Potter..."   
  
Harry turned, to find a cruel smile on the face of the Potions Master. "I would think that after the events of the past year, you would have learned to be more cautious. But I suppose a certain, recklessness, was passed through from your most unfortunate friend." He emphasized the last words with a sneer.  
  
Harry was again filled with a burning hatred. No matter how much he blamed himself for what had happened, or blamed Snape, or even Dumbledore, he would not stand for anyone insulting his godfather. He ignored Ginny's tugging at his arm, meeting Snape's challenging stare.  
  
"Harry, no!" Someone snapped at him, but not in the voice of either of his friends, or even out loud. The voice echoed most disconcertingly in his mind. A bit of rational thought filtered through his angry red haze.   
  
"Texi?" He whispered, astonished, and sure enough, with a quick tapping of footsteps she appeared around the corner and reached them quickly.   
  
She smiled at them as she reached them. "Calm your mind, Harry." She thought. "Take a few deep breaths." He did as she told him and felt a bit better, but still terribly angry.   
  
"Who might this be?" Snape said, again very cool. He was obviously thinking that, as a professor, she should be introducing herself to him first.  
  
Ginny spoke, as Ron was too intimidated and Harry was still too angry to trust himself to be civil.  
  
"Just introduce me as Mitexi Snowfoot, here to do research." Texi told her.  
  
Ginny dutifully repeated after her. And Texi smiled at the professor, catching his eye. He looked down at her coldly. She blinked, and stared up at him, her striking green eyes holding his eyes of ebony. She blinked again and shook her head with a rueful smile. Snape waited expectantly and none too patiently.  
  
Texi rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a wand, which Harry had never seen before in her hand. He wondered how she managed to use it. His questions were answered as she held it to her forehead, and suddenly her voice became audible, though her lips still didn't move.   
  
"Simply amazing, Professor Snape!" She exclaimed. "I've never had someone so completely block me out before." Her voice sounded odd to his ears after spending the time he knew her listening to her words in his head. "Marvelous." She smiled. "I'm very pleased to meet you."   
  
She looked at him searchingly, but Harry could not tell what she thought about the resemblance to her Sarven from looking at her face. He wondered where Sarven was.   
  
"I'd love to talk to you about it some time," She continued, and Harry gathered he had missed something, "Perhaps if you would grant me the time to interview you on your improvements of the Veritaserum?"  
  
"Perhaps." Snape said non-committedly before sweeping off down the hall towards his office with no further comment.   
  
Texi frowned slightly as she tucked her wand back into her pocket. Harry followed her eyes and knew what she saw, Sarven's walk and even the way he held his head and shoulders. He was horribly curious, but she had made it clear she would answer no more questions about the young man.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Ginny was asking Texi.   
  
Her voice sounded in his head, almost as a relief. "Well, just what I said, really. One of us was asked to stay on the grounds, and I volunteered. Sarven wasn't happy." She said with a frown.  
  
"Is he here too?" Harry asked curiously.   
  
Mitexi looked at him thoughtfully, pursing her lips. "He will be, but he's still not happy about it. He's going to avoid being here for as long as he can."  
  
Harry wanted so much to ask her more questions, but her glance showed him that she was not opening the iron lock on those thoughts and he may as well forget about it.   
  
"So, you couldn't enter Snape's mind?" Ginny asked.  
  
Mitexi suddenly looked almost excited. "Yes, it was amazing." Harry had half expected her to be annoyed at her failure. "I wish I knew how he did it. If he won't tell me, I'll figure it out on my own. He seemed like the close-mouthed sort. But then," She smiled grimly. "I do love a challenge."  
  
Harry wasn't sure who he should be more worried about when he saw an almost 'Oliver Wood Last Quidditch Match of the Season' gleam in her eyes, Mitexi, or Professor Snape. He decided to worry about Mitexi, he didn't want to spare a congenial thought towards his unpleasant professor of Potions.  
  
Please, please, please review. Thank you. 


	18. Chapter 18: Start of Term

I do not own Harry Potter. This wonderful world belongs to J.K. Rowling with, of course, the notable exceptions of my original characters and the story.  
  
Chapter 18: Start of Term  
  
The last week before start of term flew by in a flurry of activity, as Texi made them show her every corner of the castle and even cajoled Tala into tearing herself away from the concordance she was working on using Potions tomes from the restricted section, once in a while.   
  
One by one the rest of the professors filtered in, some looking tanned, most looking tired. Professor McGonagall seemed to have largely recovered, though she still occasionally leaned on her walking stick for support.   
  
Texi was at first excited from the sight, thinking the witch was another of the rare staff mages, and was slightly disappointed when McGonagall disabused her of this notion. They hadn't met before, so Harry assumed that McGonagall had been elsewhere when Texi met with the others.   
  
The professors didn't seem confused at her presence and Flitwick informed them, in his squeaky voice one morning when they were all breakfasting in the Great Hall, that on occasion they did have students come to research there from other schools, particularly if they were seeking Mastery status. However, he went on, the relations with the other schools had not been well enough for the past two decades and the practice had fallen into disuse.   
  
Texi remained gracious and smiling with all of them, answering readily when they questioned her about her unique brand of Legillimency. The only one who did not question her at one point or another during the week, was the one who should have been the most interested. Harry did notice Snape peering at her closely once or twice when she was speaking to one of the professors near him. But he still didn't allow her anywhere near his mind, and if she wished to speak to him she had to resort to the use of her wand.  
  
Texi expressed her frustration over his stubbornness once or twice to Harry and his friends, when they had retreated to the private chambers that Dumbledore had set aside for her and Sarven.   
  
The two chambers were set into a large square tower near the library, so that she could have easy access to the information needed for her supposed research. They were large and airy, with a great stone hearth, earth colored carpets and a number of chairs and sofas scattered around. Two of the walls contained banks of windows while the third, the one that contained the door, was covered with a large tapestry depicting fanciful scenes of castles and battles involving unicorns and other fantastic beasts.   
  
Through the doors on the fourth wall were two more doors leading to bedchambers and a spiral staircase leading up to Texi's chamber on the floor above. She told them that she was going to share the rooms with whoever needed to drop by from the Stepenwolv contingent.   
  
She smiled mysteriously as she added that there may be three of them staying permanently. One was herself, another was Sarven, but she stayed stubbornly mum about the third one, no matter how much they pleaded and cajoled for the other's identity.   
  
The day that the rest of the students were to arrive, Tala took their leave of them, embracing them all tearfully and telling them that they could contact her and her husband at any time. They hugged her in return before she walked out the doors, intending to make her way to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds before Apparating.   
  
"She was missing Remus," Texi commented as she stood with them, her voice sounding a bit nervous. "Otherwise we would have had to pry her out of the library."  
  
"What's the matter, Texi?" Ginny asked her as they made their way up the stairs to enjoy one last morning in her rooms. "You seem..."  
  
"Nervous?" She laughed soundlessly. "Yes, a bit. This is the start of the hiding and sticking to the story, plus the others will be arriving soon. I'm afraid Sarven is going to sneak in. I'll be very impressed if he manages it." It sounded as though she were planning her own reward for him if he managed to impress her.   
  
"Kumquat." Harry told the painting of the dancer that guarded her rooms, and she spun and bowed as the portal swung open.   
  
They walked in, and it was a moment before they noticed someone standing in the shadows by the windows. He turned and smiled. Texi grinned and ran over to him. He caught her in his arms and they exchanged a long caress, which made Harry look away and Ron cough and blush nervously.   
  
Sarven set her down, she looked a bit flushed as well, and gave a grin to the rest of them. "Hi, everyone." He said as the two of them walked over to the others. He reached out and ruffled Ginny's hair, smiling mischievously.   
  
"Hey, stop that!" She protested, but she didn't look too put out. The two of them were genuinely fond of each other. Texi made a face and pulled him closer, and Harry found himself frowning. Sarven and Ginny noticed their faces and burst out laughing.  
  
"No need to be jealous, darling." Sarven purred at Texi. She winked at him.   
  
Ginny shook her head, but couldn't seem to find anything to say. She controlled her giggles with an effort, and Harry tried to stop his face from glowering, it was putting up quite a fight.   
  
"How DID you get in, Sarven?" Hermione asked, "We were right in the Great Hall and we didn't see you."   
  
Sarven gave her a sly smile, then laughed. "Not too much of a secret. I came in through the kitchens."  
  
"You can get in through the kitchens?" Ginny exclaimed, delighted. She appeared to be mulling over the possibilities.  
  
"Yes, but the House Elves won't let anyone in without express permission from Dumbledore himself." He glanced at her knowingly, "Or out."   
  
She pouted ostentatiously.   
  
Mitexi was nodding, "So he understood."  
  
"He understands a lot," Sarven interrupted with a warning glance. "More than most of us can even know." She looked at him with a pensive expression that promised further conversation later when they were alone.   
  
"What time do the other students arrive?" He changed the subject. They chatted for a while on that vein before a voice outside the portrait insinuated itself into their hearing.   
  
"C'mon hon, I'm SUPPOSED to be here, really. Won't you let me in? Damnit! How do you work these things?" A disgruntled voice was commenting crossly. "Shall I tickle you into submission?" Harry could swear he heard the portrait giggle and shriek.   
  
Hermione, a puzzled look on her face, got up and opened the portrait to reveal a feral looking young man with long black hair and distinctive tilted green eyes. He was approaching the painting threateningly, his fingers extended into tickling position.  
  
"Tainn!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"The one and only, my dear Meow." He commented gallantly, looking slightly disappointed that he hadn't gotten to tickle the picture of the pretty dancer.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked as the young animagus vaulted lightly through the opening and stood up, peering around the room curiously.   
  
"Well, my dear fellow," He said lazily as he walked lightly over and flung himself into a chair, making himself comfortable, "Tony and I came to an agreement that I should spend a year overseas studying the magical creatures. He also arranged it with the Professor that I should assist him. He's an old drinking buddy apparently." He smiled his dangerous looking grin. "So, dear boy, I shall be your Assistant Care of Magical Creatures Professor this year. You may call me Mister Tainn sir."  
  
"Mister Tainn sir?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow.   
  
"Well, not you, dear lady," He said with a sidelong glance, "You can call me dearest, or beloved, or love monkey if you wish."   
  
Ginny burst out into laughter, pounding the arms of her chair in mirth. "Love...monkey...! Oh Merlin, it's going to be a heck of a year."  
  
Hermione didn't look all that amused and said so, "I'll call you Professor Snowfoot."  
  
"Alas, you break my heart, but that is one thing you may not call me." He sat up and looked at them all seriously, well, as serious as he could possibly look anyway. "To the best of the student's knowledge, my name is Jonas Tainn." He scowled, making him look positively deadly. "Much as I hate to hide my true identity, I will also have to do somewhat about my appearance. May as well do it now."   
  
He sighed and unfurled himself from the chair, and as he did so, Harry noticed that he was still unshod. He stood and fumbled in his robes, finally producing his wand. He passed it over his eyes, murmuring, "Glamouri." As they watched, the color of his eyes changed slowly, filtering to blue, then brown, and finally settling on a golden hazel.   
  
It wasn't too much of a change, but the family resemblance to his sister was not noticeable any longer without the brilliant green. However, his choice of colors did nothing to change his feral look, and he now resembled the wolf that was his other form more than ever.   
  
He sighed and stuck his wand back in his pocket, slumping back into his chair. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Sarven. "I could..."  
  
"No." Sarven told him firmly, "I will not let it force me to change who I am, no matter what."  
  
Texi looked up at him, and Harry swore he could see tears of pride in her eyes. Tainn sighed and shrugged. "Anywho, just call me Tainn, or Mr. Tainn, since I'm not a real professor. Nobody will think it's my actual first name, as unusual as it is."   
  
He yawned, and Harry noticed that he looked quite tired.   
  
"How was your trip, brother?" Texi asked him.   
  
He glanced at her, "Blasted long, and all I want to do now is curl up and take a nap." Tainn yawned again, "I'd maim for a cup of coffee."  
  
A moment later the portrait swung open and a house elf, with huge green eyes and a nose resembling a cherry, appeared bearing a tray containing a carafe of fragrant coffee and a pot of tea.   
  
"I am forever grateful, dear Tibby." Tainn said expansively. When the elf giggled Harry noticed that it was a female, and she seemed quite taken with the Assistant Professor.   
  
"Anytime, Mr. Tainn, sir." She squeaked. "Just be calling for Tibby and she'll be coming, sir." She bowed away and vanished back out through the door.   
  
"Darling creatures, they're very rare in the States." He commented after he took a few contented sips of his coffee.   
  
Hermione leaned towards him, folding her arms across her chest, Ron groaned, knowing what was coming. "Don't you think it's wrong, enslaving them?"  
  
"No, indeed, I think enslaving them was the way to go." He murmured.  
  
Hermione looked as though she had just been struck. "So you admit it?"  
  
He eyed her with some concern. "There's really no other way to say it," He told her bluntly, "They don't get paid, do they? BUT, have you ever seen an unhappy, freed, house elf?"   
  
"Yes," She admitted grudgingly, "But Dobby is happy being free."  
  
"I see." He set his coffee down on the arm of his chair, "Dobby is a rarity, then. I would like to meet him sometime, as I'm rather a rarity as well. But Hermione, before you go about freeing house elves, make sure they actually want it. Now, I do not see a problem with freeing them if they're unhappy with their lives, but the majority of them ARE happy. Don't take away their happiness, Meow."  
  
Hermione stared at him, her mouth working, then she leaned back in her chair, the set of her jaw stubbornly unyielding. Harry sighed, he had hoped this year would be the death of S.P.E.W.   
  
They spent a while in quiet conversation before Harry glanced at his watch. He caught Ron's glance and nodded. "It's almost time," He told the rest of them. And they all stood, with the exception of Sarven, who slumped further into his chair and glared darkly out the window.   
  
"Aren't you coming, Sarv?" Tainn asked him. Sarven directed him such a murderous stare that Tainn took a few steps backwards, clutching his heart.  
  
"If ever a look could kill, to misquote an over-used saying." He said lightly, gingerly moving forward and patting the other young man on the shoulder before skipping back. "I'll have Tibby bring you something up." He ignored Hermione's look.  
  
Texi paused for a moment of silent conversation before kissing the black haired young man on the top of his head and following them out the portrait hole. Tainn gave the painting a smile and wink before they made a turn down the stairs and she disappeared out of sight.   
  
Harry and Ron led the way down through the twisting hallways, they having a bit more experience at navigating them than the others. Tainn seemed to like to amuse himself with holding brief conversations with the portraits on their way down. Finally they reached the Great Hall and directed Texi and Tainn to the other door that led the way to the Head Table.   
  
"Ready, everyone?" Hermione asked them in her prefect's voice as they moved off.   
  
"Yeah Hermione." Ron said, rolling his eyes, not noticing that Hermione was looking at Harry. He nodded, steeling himself to seeing all his fellow students once again. He didn't know how much they knew about the events the year before, but he was well aware that most of them read the Daily Prophet and probably suspected something to do with him. He felt himself tense until he felt a hand clasp his own. He looked down to see Ginny giving him a fortifying look. She squeezed his hand once before letting go and he immediately felt better.   
  
He was still the last one to enter, lagging behind the others reluctantly, and so he was the only one to see another person darting past, their dark traveling robes floating behind them as they moved down the hall towards the Professor's entrance. He sighed praying that Remus was right about the new DADA professor, because he thought that whoever it was had just arrived.   
  
"Harry, hey Harry!" Colin Creevy was standing and waving at him. As he walked over he saw the rest of the DA members waving at him, smiling.   
  
"Hi Colin." He said as he passed, moving to where Ron was saving him a seat. He took his place and looked around, on his other side was Neville, who smiled at Harry.   
  
"I got a new wand," He whispered, "Gran didn't even yell as much as I would have thought."  
  
Harry had to fight to smile and nod in return, remembering the circumstances under which Neville's wand had been broken in the first place. He looked away and found himself locating all the other members. When he saw Cho he couldn't even bring himself to feel regret over their failed romance of the year before. Too many things seemed so unimportant now.   
  
He occupied his mind with planning the first DA meeting of the year, even though he wasn't even sure if it would be allowed to continue. He decided that he would regret its loss if Dumbledore told him that he could no longer teach his fellow students how to defend themselves. He would try though, because it gave him a sense of purpose without a sense of impending doom.   
  
He sighed, causing concerned looks from those around him. Harry avoided their glances though, looking instead up at the Head Table, where he located Texi, sitting near Madame Hooch, and Tainn, next to the empty seat that would soon be filled to overflowing with Hagrid. There was also one completely unfamiliar face, and Harry realized that this was the person who had dashed past him in the hall.   
  
She was a fairly young woman with a pale oval face and, as far as Harry could see, eyes the color of port wine. She had a page-boy cap on her head and Harry assumed her hair was either very short or tucked up under it, for all he could see was a few straggling reddish-brown curls. Her robes and cap were simple in design but vibrant in color, a deep, dark purple. She was sitting next to Snape and from the look of the uncertain smile on her face, she wasn't sure what to think of him.   
  
He caught the eyes of his friends and jerked his head towards the new witch, they nodded soberly in return. Just then, before they could start a proper speculative conversation about her, Hagrid slipped into his seat with a clap on the shoulder for Tainn, who grinned wildly, Flitwick was placing the stool and sorting hat at the accustomed place, and McGonagall was ushering in the new batch of frightened first years.  
  
Everyone in the hall fell silent as the rip in the brim opened and the hat began to sing.   
  
In a hundred, and a hundred years,   
  
And a hundred more than that,   
  
There has been a thing which does exist,  
  
Tis me, the sorting hat.   
  
I've looked into a thousand minds,   
  
And a thousand more besides  
  
To listen, seek, and to find  
  
In which house they should reside  
  
In Gryffindor, this much is true  
  
Bravery sees them through  
  
In Ravenclaw, I've come to know  
  
The mind is where it shows.  
  
In Hufflepuff we all can see  
  
The steadfast come to be  
  
And Slytherin, that clever crew  
  
May be the one for you  
  
But still we should be of one heart  
  
This is the place to start  
  
And stand together through it all  
  
Let nothing come to part  
  
For without our strength we fall.  
  
Everyone applauded as the hat made its bow, and the sorting began. He noticed the new professor watching in fascination and decided she must not have been schooled at Hogwarts, for after five years of watching the sorting he had grown used to it, though he still applauded when they gained a new Gryffindor, ignoring when those who had grown up in the wizarding world recognized him and stared. Finally the sorting was over, and they had twelve new Gryffindors to bring into the fold.   
  
The mild chatter that had broken out died away when Professor Dumbledore stood with a smile, his arms thrown out widely in welcome.   
  
"Many new faces, many not-so-new, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Now, before you all faint from hunger, let the feast begin." He sat down as the tables groaned with the sudden weight of food, and they all set to, knowing they would have to wait until the feast ended before finding out new information.  
  
Harry kept his face down to his plate to avoid looking at anyone, but that did not prevent anyone who wanted to talk to him from approaching. The first was Katie Bell, who was the new Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as Angelina and Alicia had both graduated. She informed him that his quidditch ban had been lifted and that he was expected on the pitch at 8 o'clock on Friday for tryouts to fill in the openings on the team. She smiled uncertainly at Ginny, whom Harry would be replacing, and Ginny smiled back, unperturbed.  
  
"I rather think I'll try out for Chaser." She commented. Katie nodded, relieved, before she returned to her seat. After that, conversation quietly turned to DA and Harry had to tell the members that came up to him that he wasn't sure if it would continue and certainly he would ask. They also had to explain why they weren't on the Hogwarts Express, though they didn't tell the whole circumstances.   
  
He was starting his dessert when conversation turned to the new faces at the Head Table. It was Parvati, sitting a few seats down, who first mentioned them.  
  
"He's so handsome." She sighed.   
  
Hermione shot her a suspicious glance, and Lavender, who was sitting next to her, caught it. "The man next to Hagrid," She explained. "Tall, dark, and handsome." She giggled.   
  
Hermione lifted an eyebrow and Harry looked at Tainn closely. He supposed the young man was good looking, he hadn't given a thought to that. Ginny giggled. "He's a character." She said profoundly.   
  
Lavender gave her a supercilious look. "And I suppose you know him so well?"  
  
"As a matter of fact..." Ginny started to say, but Harry saw Hermione give her a hard nudge and from the way she yelped, Ron had stepped on her foot underneath the table. "We've met," She finished with a grim look for her brother and her friend.   
  
Parvati looked doubtful, but again turned her attention to watching the feral looking young man, who was having an animated conversation with the gamekeeper.   
  
Texi was speaking with Madame Pince, probably about a certain book she needed. "Do you know who that is?" Neville asked quietly, his eyes on the pretty girl with the light brown hair and hart-shaped face.   
  
"That's Mitexi Snowfoot." Harry provided. "She's here to do research for her Potions Mastery."  
  
Neville nodded, his eyes glued to her, blushing slightly.  
  
Ron leaned over and whispered to Harry, "Do you think we should tell him about her boyfriend?"  
  
Harry shook his head, " I don't think he wants anyone to know he's here." He whispered back. Ron nodded thoughtfully. Harry thought about Sarven as well. He was a puzzling fellow, not the least of which for his uncanny resemblance to Snape, who was sparing Harry a brief glare before going back to ignoring the attempts at conversation the witch next to him was making.   
  
Soon enough everyone had finished eating, and the plates cleared. Silence slowly permeated the room as Dumbledore stood again to make his usual start of term speech.   
  
"Now that your stomachs are full, and your minds are empty, it is time to begin filling them again. Mr. Filch would like me to once again remind you that there is no magic allowed in the halls between classes, and that the list of forbidden objects is now occupying its own set of filing cabinets in his office if any of you would wish to refresh your memories as to its contents." He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "And it is my great pleasure to announce the presence of a research student this year, a graduate of the Sundonoma Sorcery Academy in the United States, one Miss Mitexi Snowfoot." Texi stood up and waved briefly to mild applause before sitting back down.  
  
"We also have two new additions to the staff. Also from the United States, taking a year to improve his knowledge of the Magical Creatures native to England, Professor Tainn, who will be assisting Professor Hagrid this year." Tainn stood up and gave them all a sweeping bow, grinning widely to show his deep dimples. There was a great deal of applause for him, mostly coming from the female members of the student body. Harry heard a few giggles as well as he sat back down.   
  
"And finally, to take the place of our...erm...former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," There were scattered boos from the audience, and Professor Dumbledore tried to look quelling but couldn't quite hide his agreement, "We will be welcoming Professor Lanya from Hungary, who graciously agreed to take over the post this year." There was applause, but many people looked uncertain, a sentiment that Harry could understand completely.   
  
"And now, as a well rested mind is a mind ready to be stuffed with knowledge, I declare the feast ended. Prefects, please escort your house members to your common rooms."   
  
It was only later, when Harry was in his comfortable and familiar bed, that he realized Professor Dumbledore had said nothing about the war, or what had happened at the end of the last year. He would have thought on it longer, but his body betrayed him by drifting off to sleep.  
  
Please, please, please review! 


	19. Chapter 19: New Defense

I am very grateful to my reviewers Eris and DUMPHEAD for pointing out my continuity error. Bad Kyokki! Bad! :Hits head on keyboard: I have fixed it in this re-submit.  
  
I do not own Harry Potter. I merely own the story and the original characters.  
  
Chapter 19: New Defense  
  
Harry woke to the sounds of Durry chirping in his ear and Ron sitting up and yawning noisily. He sat up himself and scrubbed his hands over his face. He sighed and let his arms drop, smiling sleepily at Durry when he licked his hand. The smile faded quickly, though. He let his head sink until his chin rested against his chest, and he stared down at his hand, which was scratching between Durry's wings. He missed Sirius terribly this morning, though he could not quite pinpoint the reason. Perhaps it was because he hadn't had any visits from his godfather in his dreams.  
  
He nodded absently. That was the most likely reason. He gently moved Durry off his lap and pulled his curtains open, letting in the sunlight and the sight of his roommates, all in varying states of sleepy dishevelment.   
  
Dean and Seamus smiled at him rather hesitantly before retreating into the bathroom to shower and dress. Neville was already completely awake and dressed, kneeling at the end of his bed and rummaging in his trunk for something he must have misplaced. He finally stood with a cry of triumph and his new wand clutched in his hand. Ron stared at him blearily for a moment before shaking his head and pulling on his dressing gown.   
  
Harry pushed his blankets back and swung his feet to the floor with a quick hiss for the cold stones. He turned to find that Durry had made himself comfortable in the warm spot he had left, and a moment later Cord slithered out from beneath the blankets near the foot of the bed to curl up around him. Harry watched them with some amusement before he moved to get ready for the first day of classes.   
  
The Great Hall contained its usual amount of chattering students, eating, discussing classes, teachers and a whole plethora of subjects that had nothing to do with school, he gathered. Several of the groups stopped talking and stared at Harry when he walked in. When he stared right back, they turned away and resumed their discussions in lowered voices. He had no illusions that they were not discussing him. He sighed heavily as he sat down in his usual place near the center of the table, noting that sighing heavily was becoming an unwelcome habit.   
  
He didn't turn his attention to the rest of the hall until he had filled his plate and began eating. He noted that while Mitexi was at her place between Pince and Hooch, Tainn was not in his place at the table. He glanced at Lavender, who looked so unconcerned that he knew she must have been disappointed by his absence.   
  
He felt a tap on his shoulder just as he decided he had eaten enough, and he looked up to see Ron handing him his class schedule. He managed a small grin and took it, though he hesitated before looking it over. Finally he shook his head and read, suppressing a small groan when he saw that, indeed, he had on his schedule a slot for NEWT level potions. His brow furrowed when he saw a place listed for independent studies on Wednesday evenings.   
  
When Ron sat down next to him with a long-suffering look, muttering about first years, and prefect duties, he pointed it out to him. Ron looked puzzled, then pulled out his own course list.   
  
"No, I don't have anything like that on my list." He told Harry. "But I see we're both in for NEWT Potions on Tuesday afternoons, Defense on..." He squinted at the list, "Monday mornings. Well, at least we won't have to wonder for long about the new professor," He said lightly, though he looked worried. "We have Magical Creatures this afternoon." At this he looked so positively disgruntled that Hermione, who was chatting with Ginny across the table, looked at him curiously and Harry had to laugh.   
  
"How's your schedule?" Harry asked her.   
  
"Very full," she admitted. "I haven't really given up any of my classes, I mean imagine giving up Arithmancy." She looked horrified at the very thought. "And of course, I got Outstandings on all my OWLS."  
  
"Like that's a surprise." Ron muttered. Hermione ignored him.  
  
"So," Harry said hurriedly, "You're in our NEWT level classes as well?"  
  
She nodded. Just then Neville rushed over, his own course list clutched in his hand. "Harry," He said, a bit breathlessly, "I forgot."  
  
"What is it, Neville?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
Neville looked positively glowing. "I got an Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts!" He exclaimed proudly.  
  
"Good job, Neville!" Hermione congratulated him, while Ron and Harry made similar statements.  
  
"Well, I just wanted to thank you, Harry." Neville added with an embarrassed grin.   
  
Harry grinned at him. At last, something to brighten his first day back. "It was my pleasure to help you guys out, Neville." He told him with feeling.   
  
"Well," Now Neville had a touch of nervousness on his round face. "We were, I mean all of the members were wondering, if you had talked to Dumbledore yet."  
  
"It's the first day, Neville." Hermione said gently.  
  
"Oh." His face colored, and he looked down, " Oh, of course. I mean, there's plenty of time, right?"  
  
"Yeah, Neville." Harry assured him. "If we can get it going again, you can be sure we will."   
  
Neville brightened so before he trotted off that Harry smiled after him. The smile faded however, when he saw Ginny, Hermione and Ron watching him closely.   
  
"I'll talk to him, I swear it." He told them with a dark look. "I just...' He had to look away, "I remember the look on his face last year when..." He trailed off, furious with himself. He looked towards the head table, and happened to catch the headmaster's eyes. Dumbledore nodded at him. He glanced back. "I'll go ask him now."  
  
He said it quickly, he must do it quickly otherwise he would not be able to do it at all. After all, the club had been the reason that Dumbledore had been forced to leave the year before.   
  
Ron gave him a fortifying clap on the back as he stood, gathering his resolve around him as he made his way up to the head table. He could feel eyes on his back, regarding him curiously, but he refused to look around or quicken his pace. When he passed other members he caught their eyes and nodded. They looked worried.   
  
Finally he stood before the head table. This year they could not operate in secrecy, that much was clear. So there was no better way to do what he promised. He stood in front of Dumbledore, who was looking at him in such a way that Harry realized he knew exactly why he was there.   
  
The headmaster was smiling and his eyes held that, oh, so familiar twinkle, so Harry felt a bit reassured. He cleared his throat, wishing he felt a little less like a sideshow on display.   
  
"Er, Professor. I would like to talk to you about forming a club." He said in a rush, wanting to get it over with. At least, this way, they couldn't say he didn't try.   
  
"Certainly Harry," The Professor said, looking into his eyes. Harry felt himself relax, and along with this sensation he was aware of a peculiar urge to burst into tears. He hadn't realized how much he missed that pleasant look. "But I find that I must ask you to reconsider the choice of names." He looked at Harry over the rim of his half-moon glasses, "Not that the one you used wasn't rather flattering."   
  
Harry smiled in embarrassment, thinking his face must be turning red, and Dumbledore cleared his throat with a wink. "I think that the Defense Association," Another smile. "is a fine idea, but I'm afraid I must insist you have a teacher sponsor due to the potentially hazardous tendencies of the subject matter." He turned his gaze to the left end of the table, where Snape was eating his breakfast in stubborn silence. Harry felt a stab of fear. "Professor Lanya?" He called.  
  
Harry almost sagged with relief. The witch in question turned with a smile, nodded, and got up to take the seat beside Dumbledore, which Professor McGonagall had abandoned a few minutes before.  
  
She regarded Harry with interest as she tucked one of those straggling reddish brown curls behind her ear. "Yes, Headmaster? Is this on the matter you spoke about?" She inquired. She had a smooth, dark voice with a slight eastern European accent. "An Association, I think it was being?"  
  
"Indeed, Larissa." He replied with a fond smile. "A defense against the dark arts club. We have had such an unfortunate time with most of our former professors that I'm afraid the Defense classes have been suffering."  
  
"Yes, this having been one of the reasons I applied for the position." She nodded. Harry wondered what the other reasons were.  
  
"I was sincerely delighted when I received your owl." Dumbledore assured her. "But in any case, some of the students believe it would be beneficial to have an independent, largely student run club, to help them catch up."  
  
Professor Lanya leaned back in her chair, toying with one of her sleeves, very long, covering her arms to her fingertips, as she considered. Finally she nodded. "I think this is a good idea, yes." She looked at Harry, "You be president?"  
  
"I was..." Dumbledore coughed. "I mean, yes...until we have a vote about it, I guess I'm acting president." Harry told her. "Of the Defense Association."  
  
"This is good." She said with a radiant smile. "I heard much of you, Harry. I think you will be able to continue this year, as you did the last." Harry stared, and she winked. "A great deal of talent in Defense." She nodded to herself, "Many will benefit from this." She frowned slightly, then looked into his eyes. He realized that hers really were the color of ripe raspberries. "I will sponsor this. You may make announcements to post in the common rooms, we will discuss times, and location, later."   
  
"Thank you, Professor." He smiled broadly. She nodded again, and as he walked off, giving a thumbs up to the DA members, who immediately started talking to each other excitedly, he felt her approving gaze following him back to his seat.   
  
"All the common rooms?!" Ron protested quite loudly as they were gathering their books for their first class.   
  
"That's what she said," Harry said again.  
  
"But the Slytherins!"   
  
Harry had to consciously stop himself from sighing. "I know. But since we're going to be out in the open this year..." He shrugged his bag onto his shoulder and raised his hands helplessly. "I suppose we can put up with a Slytherin or two."  
  
"Even if it's Malfoy?" Ron pointed out.  
  
Harry froze, a grim frown on his face, then he looked thoughtful. "I haven't seen him. Usually he insults me at least once by this time."   
  
"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen him either." Ron commented as they moved out the door and down the stairs. "He's probably off sulking somewhere. After all, his dad's in prison."  
  
"Yeah," Harry said sourly. "I hope he stays there."  
  
"Hear, hear." Ron agreed wholeheartedly.   
  
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was filled with tension when he and Ron entered. They found Hermione sitting in the front row, along with a great many empty seats. She smiled tensely and waved them over. The boys gave longing glances towards the back of the room before shrugging and joining her.   
  
"It's going to be a whole new experience," She gushed as soon as they got themselves settled, though her enthusiasm seemed a bit forced. "All the best sixth year students from all the houses in one classroom."   
  
Harry hadn't really realized this, but when he glanced around he indeed saw quite a few faces that were only vaguely familiar, along with some he knew well, like Terry and Justin.   
  
Neville darted in a few seconds later and took a seat on the other side of Hermione. He was quite red in the face from running.  
  
"Didn't want to be late on the first day," He gasped.   
  
"Did you lose something?" Harry asked him, leaning around Ron and Hermione to look at the other boy.   
  
"No," Neville scowled suddenly, "I was just delayed."  
  
Ron opened his mouth to add his own questions when the door to the room opened and their new professor slid in and shut it quietly behind her. The sudden silence in the room was profound as she walked over to her desk and perched on the edge, surveying them. Finally she picked up a list and began calling roll, examining them each minutely as she read each name, as though memorizing their faces. Finally she set the list aside and stood.   
  
"Welcome, Sixth Year students, to your first NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts class," She said in her low voice. Harry prepared himself for a lecture on the importance of NEWTs, as last year they had received many on the importance of OWLs, however, it did not come.  
  
"As Professor Dumbledore told you at the feast, I am Professor Lanya," She suddenly smiled, "I am looking forward to a year of bright minds, bright questions and superior spell work." Harry heard some students behind him shift nervously in their seats. Hermione shifted as well, but only to lean farther forward in her chair.   
  
"Please take out your quills and parchments." There was an answering rustle. "Now," She walked slowly across the front of the room. "I understand that the education in Defense has been sorely lacking in the past, with the one exception of what I believe was your third year?" Harry nodded, and saw his seat mates do the same.   
  
"I have talked with my comrade Professor Lupin and believe you have a thorough grounding in dark creatures. I also have been told you have had sufficient experience with the Unforgivables. And Theory was addressed more than sufficiently last year." There were scattered mutters. She smiled in understanding.   
  
"Now, what I wish you to write down are some things you think you should already know, what you already know and what you think has been insufficiently explained in the way of curses, hexes and protection spells. This will be of great assistance to myself and to you."  
  
Harry leaned over his parchment and thought, hearing the scratching of quills behind him. Hermione was scribbling furiously. He wrote a few things before coming up empty. He was aware of Professor Lanya moving among them, glancing at their parchments and nodding at points, grimacing at others.   
  
"That should be quite enough." She called out when she again gained the front of the class. "Put your quills away, pass up your parchments and get out your wands." Harry gathered up the papers that were passed to him and gave them to the professor when she passed his desk. She shuffled them thoughtfully before putting them on her desk, weighing them down with a paperweight shaped like a crouching wyvern.   
  
Harry pulled out his wand and waited, eager.   
  
"Now, I want to assess your level of skill. Everyone please get up and come to the front of the room." They all obliged and when they stood in a group at the front Professor Lanya pulled out her wand, long and slender and made of a polished dark wood, and banished the desks to the back of the room.   
  
She stood in the cleared space and faced them. "I understand some of you have mastered quite a few basic spells. What this exercise determines is your exact level of skill and allows me to see who will be able to assist with those who need additional assistance. Do not feel shamed if you cannot do one of the spells, they will increase in difficulty through the lesson." She smiled at the class, and Harry thought she held his gaze a little longer than any of the others.   
  
"Your first opponent will be myself. We will spar off one by one. Those of you who are not participating at the moment watch closely. Take notes if you desire." This with a glance at Hermione, who already had her bag close at hand, her quill and a sheet of parchment sitting on top.   
  
"Now, we will work alphabetically." She glanced up as she assumed dueling stance. "Hannah Abbot, please come forward."   
  
Harry watched eagerly as they started with the basic Expelliarmus and moved on to harder and harder spells. He caught the looks of the DA and smiled at them encouragingly. He was sure they would all do splendidly, and, as Terry took his turn, performing all the spells he had taught him, he felt that Defense Against the Dark Arts was again fast becoming his favorite class.   
  
  
  
Please, please, please review! 


	20. Chapter 20: Dodging

I do not own Harry Potter, that particular honor belongs to one J.K. Rowling.  
  
Special thanks to Masa for his assistance with the textbook section of this chapter.  
  
Chapter 20: Dodging  
  
Harry was really pleased with Neville's performance. His new wand seemed to be giving him the accuracy and power in casting that he had been lacking the year before.   
  
When, obviously hearing about the Patronuses from Remus, the professor asked him to try for one, he managed a large, hound shaped one. It was a bit gray and indistinct, but still better than he had managed in last year's DA.   
  
Harry slapped him on the back in congratulations when Neville, red-faced and a bit out of breath with the effort, rejoined the group in front of the professor's desk. There was a Slytherin that Harry didn't recognize before Padma took her turn, then Parvati. Both performed well according to Professor Lanya. Finally it was his turn.   
  
"Harry Potter." Her voice called, uninflected so as Harry could not tell how she felt about sparring against the 'famous mister Potter.' He got the feeling she didn't care much about it one way or the other.   
  
He stepped out of line and strode to the left side of the cleared area. She stood across from him, her wand held loosely in her left hand. Her right hand was gloved, he noticed, in an indigo blue that matched her simply designed robes and hat. Unlike Neville, and most of the others, even after all her testing of the students she didn't look a bit tired, though a few more curls had straggled down from beneath her cap and the hem of her gown was a bit singed from a few of the spells that got rather close. There was a smudge of soot across her left cheek, but her eyes were bright and intense.   
  
She had seemed pleased with the students who had given her those close calls, and Harry gathered that she wanted them to not hold back. Very well, he would oblige, though he knew, just from watching the others, that he came nowhere near to matching her skill.  
  
They saluted each other in the dueling style. And Harry waited until her nod. She tilted her head, smiling.   
  
"Expelliarmus." He called.  
  
"Mesura Protego." She replied, smiling slightly as the shield changed color to indicate how much force the attack had contained. It turned red, showing a rather superior level. Hermione had attained the same, while most of the others got yellow or orange. Neville's, somewhat surprisingly, had turned a dark scarlet, which, she had informed them, was one of the highest colors one could attain.   
  
"Terantellegra!" And so the process repeated itself.   
  
"Rictusempra!"  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
"Hitulsify." Something he had picked up from the actor magicians. And so on and on it went, even as sweat began to trickle down his face and into his eyes, he went through his entire litany, some he had taught the others, some he was planning to teach.   
  
"Carnecetella!" He cried, then finally after he felt he could go on no longer, and with the spell, "Esternomis!" which shattered the shield and left the professor gasping but grinning like a madwoman, he had reached the end of his spell knowledge.   
  
"Very good," She gasped, lowering her wand to her side and straightening. "You all are doing quite well."   
  
She turned to Harry, "Now, if you are up to it, if you would be giving us one demonstration of your corporeal Patronus?"  
  
Harry swept his sleeve across his forehead to rid himself of the beads of perspiration and nodded, "Expecto Patronum." He cried, thinking of his dream when his father and stepfather had both been beside him. His Patronus burst out of the end of his wand in a flash of silver, but before it went two steps it flickered and dissipated.   
  
Harry was conscious on a prickling sensation behind his eyelids. It was so hard to hold onto a happy memory lately.   
  
"Thank you, Harry," His professor was saying, and he nodded again before going to rejoin the group. He relaxed when he retook his place between Ron and Hermione, watching distractedly as the remainder of the class took their turns. He noticed that Hermione squeezed Ron's hand briefly before he went to take his turn.  
  
When they had at last been measured she addressed them all. "Now that I know your skill levels, I can more accurately plan my lessons. You all did quite well."   
  
There were smiles and murmurs in the group as the students clustered around with questions on their lips, most of them concerning learning more combat spells, including a few that Harry and the Slytherin, she had called him Gradly Mason, had used that were unfamiliar to the others. Harry eyed Mason with some respect, tempered with the fact that the young man was a Slytherin.  
  
She raised a hand to forestall them, laughing softly. They fell silent as she waited, refusing to speak until the last voice had stilled. She put her hand down and rested it against her hip, tapping her wand against her robe-clad leg.   
  
"As I said, you did quite well, but you can do better." Some few faces fell. "But before we address the issues of spell casting, we will deal with combat training, beginning with the most useful move of all, one that could save your life in a combat situation."   
  
Harry found the silence profound, as everyone seemed to hold their breaths to hear this most useful move.   
  
"Which is, of course, the dodge." She said seriously.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head as several of his classmates groaned, but not, he noticed, Neville, Ron, and Hermione. He knew why. They, as far as he knew, were the only ones besides he, and most likely, the professor, that had actually been in a true combat situation, unprepared as they were.   
  
"Now," Professor Lanya told them, "do not underestimate this move merely because you find it simple. It is essential that, even as and after you throw yourself out of the way, you do not leave yourself vulnerable. Combining the dodge with other moves can mean the difference between victory and defeat."  
  
She stepped back out of the students surrounding her, regarded them for a moment with calculation, then directed Ron out of the group. He stepped out, his eyes wide and nervous.   
  
"Ron, hit me with Expelliarmus."  
  
Harry saw Hermione covering her mouth with one hand, and he knew what she was thinking about. Their third year in the shrieking shack, and Snape knocked against the wall by the three of them hitting him with that spell at the same time. To protect Sirius and Remus. He blinked rapidly, then forced himself to watch Ron and Professor Lanya closely.   
  
"Um," He gulped, "Okay Professor." He assumed dueling stance, but the professor, facing him, stood relaxed, her feet shoulder width apart, her arms relaxed and hanging at her sides. Ron gulped again, rumpling his hair with his free hand as he set his shoulders.   
  
"Expelliarmus!" He cried, his hand steady as he directed his spell at the professor, who was no longer there. His spell hit the wall with a shower of sparks.  
  
In a move that was almost too quick to follow, she had dropped to one knee, launched herself forward, rolled, came back up to her feet with her nose only a foot from Ron's and her wand at his throat.   
  
Ron's eyes bulged. This had all taken place almost before the last syllable had left his tongue.  
  
The professor stepped back, her wand falling back to her side as she nodded her head formally at her opponent. "A simple forward dodge, lunge, and roll. Try to always keep your wand trained on your opponent. It is sometimes best to get yourself close in so your opponent cannot bring their wand into play."  
  
Ron stepped back into the group, his hand at his neck as though expecting to not find it whole.   
  
"If I had desired it, I could have fired one spell off on the forward lunge, one at the top of the roll, and one when my wand was being at his neck."   
  
Ron paled even more.   
  
"But this takes discipline, concentration and skill." She looked at them all significantly, "Three things which you will gain by the end of this year." The manner in which she said it implied that if they didn't, it was no fault of hers.   
  
"And that should be the end of the lesson for today." She finished. "For your homework I would like you to read the chapter in 'Magical Combat' by Crash N. Spinnet on evasive maneuvers, and choose one duel in the text, 'Famous and Infamous Duels in the Last Five Centuries,' by Walkerton Paces and give me twelve to twenty inches of parchment on how dodging was used in said duel and the effectiveness of the maneuvers."   
  
She again waved her wands at the desks clustered at the back of the room and they flew forward to once again form orderly rows. Harry hurriedly snagged his homework planner out of his bag, glad he had put a silencing charm on it, and scribbled the assignment on one of the pages. Ron was doing the same beside him, but he had not put on a silencing charm.  
  
"Do it today and it'll all be okay." His planner screeched shrilly, occasioning laughter from his classmates.  
  
Ron turned beet red and slammed the book shut before cramming it back into his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and joined Hermione, Ron and Neville where they waited near the door.   
  
"So, what did you think?" Hermione asked them as the started off towards the Great Hall for lunch, as NEWT level DADA took the entirety of the morning. Harry was just about to answer when he heard his name. He turned and saw Professor Lanya standing outside her door and beckoning to him.   
  
He turned back to his friends, "I'll catch up to you."  
  
"Sure, Harry." Neville answered, and they continued on their way, discussing the class they had just left. Harry heard Hermione compliment Neville on his Expelliarmus and he swore he could almost FEEL the young man blush at her praise.   
  
He was smiling when he rejoined the professor and she led him into her office.   
  
"Yes, Professor?" He asked when she bade him to be seated and took her own seat behind her desk.   
  
He took a moment to look around the office, noting the welcome absence of the horrid kitten plates. The chairs had been replaced with two plush armchairs upholstered in burgundy velvet. There was an oil lamp with a green shade to give light sitting on her desk. There was very little decoration on the walls but for a piece of painted glass behind her desk, depicting a tall and slender tree with lilies growing around the base, silhouetted by the rising sun. And although Harry was certain that there was no window on that wall, it seemed like there was sunlight coming through, setting it aglow.   
  
"It's by Miksa Roth," She provided with a glance over her shoulder. "One of my Aunt's favorite pieces." She smiled.   
  
"I am needing to talk to you about this Defense Association." She said cheerfully, pulling a piece of parchment to her from a pile on her desk and dipping a quill, which looked like it came from a turkey, into her inkpot. "How was it organized last year?"  
  
"Well," Harry felt oddly reluctant now that the time came, to discuss the inner workings of what he thought of as his club. "When we discovered we weren't going to learn anything useful in Professor Umbridge's class," She nodded, "We decided to get some people together and learn on our own."  
  
"All in secrecy." She provided.  
  
"Yes." Harry agreed. "We had to."  
  
She didn't speak, just regarded him searchingly for a long moment. He wondered what she was thinking, her eyes as unfathomable as Snape's could be. Finally she spoke.  
  
"You seem to have a talent for teaching. Did you never consider becoming a professor yourself?" She asked curiously.  
  
"I..." He broke off. "Once or twice." He admitted. "But I would also like to be an Auror."  
  
"The two do not preclude each other." She told him. "I was an Auror for many years in my home country before I came here to teach."  
  
"You were an Auror?" He asked, wide-eyed.   
  
"I was." She said shortly. "But I decided a change in careers was a good idea. In any case, it is often the former Aurors who become the best Defense professors. It is because of the life experience, you see." She leaned forward in her chair, propping her elbows in her desk, waving her quill in a careless hand as she spoke. "But I do not wish to occupy you your entire lunch hour." She noted.  
  
"I still have plenty of time." He told her.  
  
"In any case." She said with a nod. "Do you have a room? Perhaps the one you used last year would suffice, otherwise I could procure you one."  
  
Harry hedged, reluctant to talk about the Room of Requirement. He could not think of any room that would suit their needs just as well, even the Defense class room. He pictured the banks of books on the walls, the dark detectors, the thick cushions that were perfect for falling upon. The memories.  
  
"Did Professor Dumbledore tell you about the room we used last year?" He asked her hesitantly.   
  
"Something about chamber pots. I did not understand so well." She replied.  
  
Well, if Dumbledore had told her about it he supposed it was no longer exactly a secret. But he wondered if they would continue letting him use such a magical room for such as a private club for the students.   
  
"But perhaps you could show it to me sometime this week, and I will be able to decide whether or not to use it." She continued.   
  
"I think that would be good, Professor." Harry agreed.  
  
"One more thing," she said. "It's about times. What schedule did you use? It seemed to work well enough."  
  
Again, Harry hesitated, then pulled the fake galleon from his pocket and handed it to her.  
  
"Trying to bribe me, Harry?" She joked as she examined it with a raised eyebrow. "But this is not real."  
  
"No, it isn't." He said, "One of our smartest members used a Proteus charm on it. This is the master copy. See the numbers along the edge? When I was going to call a meeting I would change them and the other member's would change as well."  
  
She nodded, eyeing the galleon with renewed interest. "Most clever. I do hope this brilliant member is in one of my NEWT classes." She handed the galleon back to him with reluctance. "Stealth is an aspect of Auror testing, and I would say your members have a head start on it. Very well. The meetings will begin next week, perhaps the week after. I believe I will draw up the fliers myself." She hesitated, thinking. "I will have to limit it in some way so as not to be swamped with new members..." She muttered to herself, beginning to scribble on the parchment, dipping her quill occasionally.   
  
Harry waited. About a minute later she looked up with a start. "Oh, I do apologize. You may go." Then she returned to scribbling as he let himself out the door, noting that he only had twenty minutes of his lunch hour remaining, and then, Care of Magical Creatures.  
  
Please, please, please review. 


	21. Chapter 21: Of Pegasi

I do not own Harry Potter, that lovely privilege goes to one J.K. Rowling. Thanks to Masa for his help on dialectical and proofing.  
  
Chapter 21: Of Pegasi  
  
Harry wandered into the Great Hall just before the tables were cleared, moving to his seat beside Ron, who was absentmindedly nibbling on a roll as he contemplated a chapter on Dueling. He waved distractedly at Harry as the other boy sat and piled some food onto his plate. It looked and smelled as delightful as always.  
  
"What'd she want, Harry." Ron asked as he flipped a couple more pages and began to read again.   
  
Harry took a moment to swallow a forkful of sausage, "She wanted to talk about the details of the DA."  
  
Ron let the book close and turned to give his friend his full attention. "What did you tell her?"  
  
Harry chewed, thinking. "Pretty much everything," He replied after a moment. "Though I was reluctant to tell her about the Room of Requirement. She said Dumbledore mentioned it to her, but, well, it's a special sort of place, you know."  
  
"Yeah, mate." Ron told him, snagging a biscuit and munching again as though the activity helped him to organize his thoughts. "Can't be helped."  
  
"Yeah, I'm supposed to show it to her this week. But it's such a thoroughly magical room that I somehow doubt it will be reserved merely for the activities of a student club."  
  
Ron agreed reluctantly but soberly. "Still hope for it, though." He told Harry bracingly. The he stood, stuffing the book back into his bag. Harry finished stuffing in a few more mouthfuls, he was a growing boy, after all, several more inches this summer. If he didn't want to look ill, he had to eat a lot. This year he understood Ron's obsession with food.   
  
Finally, he too stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and walked with Ron out into the Great Hall, then down and out onto the grounds towards Hagrid's hut.  
  
As they walked, they wondered what consequences would arrive due to the addition of Tainn as an assistant professor. This was particularly because Hagrid's love for interesting creatures, i.e. dangerous monsters, made the class particularly hazardous at times.   
  
Harry didn't have high hopes that the addition of Tainn would temper their professor's tendencies. Neither did Ron, but another skilled professor at the site of the classes could perhaps help if one of the 'interesting creatures' got out of control.   
  
They reached the lawn and found a scattering of students. The majority of these were Gryffindors with a few hardy Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. There was not a single Slytherin in the group.   
  
Harry assumed that they only took this class because their careers of choice required it. He, on the other hand, took it because he was friends with Hagrid.  
  
He did like being outdoors, though. This class was always a refreshing change from musty classrooms, windy tower tops or stifling greenhouses. And there was always a chance that there would be a stellar session, such as the one with the fire salamanders.   
  
He joined the group of other nervous NEWT level students, all of them looking apprehensively around for their dubious professor and his unknown assistant. Harry noted particularly Lavender and Parvati, whom he hadn't expected to remain in this class, looking eagerly for the assistant professor.   
  
He, even knowing Tainn, perhaps BECAUSE he knew him, was rather edgy about this class. He knew from Ron's uneasy glances and slightly off color that he was feeling the same way.   
  
The forest loomed ominously before them a few minutes later without a sign of Hagrid, Tainn, or even Fang. Harry shook his head and looked around at his classmates.   
  
He recognized a few of the students from the other houses, but by sight and casual acquaintance only. The Hufflepuffs were talking among themselves, stopping now and then to look around, searching for the approach of their teachers.   
  
The Ravenclaws looked slightly annoyed, one of them had pulled out a book and was rifling through it thoughtfully. Harry risked a careful glance at the cover and saw the familiar runes that graced the front of Hermione's Arithmancy text.   
  
Despite his care, the Ravenclaw looked up and caught his eye. After a moment, she smiled, nodded, tucked her book under her arm and walked over to offer Harry a hand in greeting. She introduced herself as Melanie Johnsburg, and her two companions, who wandered over to see what was about, as Robert Lanning and Keilie Highturn.   
  
They knew him, of course, but didn't stop him when he introduced himself, Hermione and Ron, while the other Gryffindors sidled over and introduced themselves, and then the Hufflepuffs.   
  
The atmosphere became much lighter as they chattered among themselves, often about classes, and the Slytherins, which was a safe subject as there were none in the class. Harry truly hadn't expected to see Malfoy there, but still, his continued absence was beginning to become worrisome.  
  
He was discussing potions with Robert when he, facing the forest, saw a shadow move at the edge of the forest. Another moment went by and he saw another movement. Curious and a bit concerned, he stopped speaking, occasioning Robert to question him as to the state of his health.   
  
The movement became more pronounced, low to the ground, approaching them. Then, just as Robert turned to see what Harry was looking at, Harry heard a faint pop and Tainn bounded from the edge of the woods.   
  
He was dressed much as he had been when Harry had first met him near the launch at Stepenwolv. He had shed the robes he had worn at the Welcoming Feast and was now dressed in a faded purple-checked button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. His jeans were worn and faded, and his feet were still bare beneath them. His hair was tied back with an odd-looking leather thong with feathers, stones and beads decorating it.   
  
He stood before them, waiting for the less fleet Hagrid, who, though he took one stride for any normal man's two, didn't have Tainn's lightness of feet. When Hagrid arrived he beamed at them proudly.   
  
"Sixt years, we'come ter NEWT level Care o' Magical Creatures." He boomed, grinning at Harry and his friends especially. "We've got a treat fer th' lot of ya." He nodded at Tainn, who grinned his feral smile. "Firs, this year, as Professor Dumbeldore tol' ye, we've an ad'tion of Tainn, oo be wantin' yes ter be callin' 'im Tainn."  
  
Harry closed his eyes in resignation at the expected giggles from Lavender and Parvati. Tainn winked at Hermione surreptitiously, and she glared at him, obviously wishing that he would show a bit more professional decorum.   
  
Hagrid cleared his throat. "The creatures tha'll be studyin' fer a large part o' the term will be th' pegasi."  
  
Lavender 'oohed' at the thought, being a big lover of horses of any kind, particularly of their Divination professor, who happened to be a centaur. The rest of them certainly looked rather less leery. Most of them looked delighted. They had expected something, at the very least, with claws, fangs and poisonous venom. Pegasi, as far as they knew, had none of those, or at least few. And Harry was fairly sure that none of them were venomous.   
  
Tainn trotted off to retrieve their first subject of study, and Harry wondered if Hagrid had managed to borrow one of Madame Maxine's giant, beautiful, palomino pegasi. He wouldn't put it past him to have brought in a wild one, if not. After all, thanks to Hagrid, there was now a giant living, most unwillingly, in the Forbidden forest.   
  
And then there were the pegasi he knew from some of the lectures in History. They were native to Greece, and very nearly as rare and valuable as a unicorn. They were pure white with wide white wings, though the feathers were sometimes flecked with gold. He had heard that they fairly glittered like pearl in the light and were revered and rarely domesticated. When they were, it was only to riders of their own choosing.  
  
Then Tainn returned, a wicked smile on his face and his hands on the lead rope of the creature emerging from behind Hagrid's hut. And attached to that lead rope was the halter of the ugliest little Pegasus Harry had ever laid eyes on.   
  
It was a dumpy looking creature, no more than fifteen hands high. Its coat was black and shaggy, unevenly so, so that it looked as though someone had taken an old piece of shag carpeting and tied it onto a pony.   
  
Its nostrils whiffled as it swung its head up to inspect them imperiously, as though its were condescending to be there. As its head turned, Harry could see that its left eye was cast and a milky blue. This eye stood out like the blank eyes of the Thestral while its other eye was deep and liquid brown.   
  
He followed Tainn over to where Hagrid was beckoning them closer, his oddly wide hooves clumping heavily on the turf and the longer hair on his shaggy fetlocks swinging. Harry noticed it limped slightly.   
  
His long tail swished when he stopped, still looking them over. He shook his head, flipping his long black mane, his ears, small and pointed, twitching. His huge wings, a dingy, sooty gray, fluttered once, then returned to their relaxed position at his sides.   
  
Tainn and Hagrid both looked at him like he were one of the most glorious creatures on the planet. "Led'ge'tis would be th' name o' this yere fine fella," Hagrid told them, rolling the word in an odd manner. "But 'is owner says we kin call 'im Tilt. Easier, I'm thinkin'."   
  
There were murmurs of agreement from the students, though Harry could hear the Ravenclaws, and Hermione, trying out the name. Harry, listening to them, thought that it wasn't likely that Hagrid's pronunciation was anywhere near accurate.   
  
"Leah-tess, is as close as I can come to pronouncing it." Tainn provided them, proving he had been listening in. "Lejtes. But I think it would be simpler to call him Tilt as well." Hagrid looked relieved to not have to wrap his tongue around the name.   
  
"Tainn 'll be givin' yer th' lecture thi' lesson. Ah'll be listenin'." Hagrid told them, "An' 'elpin out me assistant." He chuckled, a veritive rumble.   
  
"Thank you my fine professor." Tainn said in his deep voice. "I hope that I shall live up to your expectations."  
  
He turned to the class, patting Tilt's nose as he looked them over. "There isn't much difference, I think, between students in America and students in England." He grinned, "It's up to you to prove me right or wrong. It'd be fun to see which it is."   
  
Hagrid sidled, as much as he could, over and stood behind Harry and Ron, clasping them both by their shoulders like a proud father. But he did not interrupt Tainn to express his happy greetings to his arguable favorites.   
  
"This is a Monglian Pegasus. Not a perfect example, I must say." Tilt bared his teeth and attempted to take a bite out of Tainn's ear. Hagrid started forward, but Tainn simply slapped the muzzle away with a laugh. "Simply because he is slightly lame in his left fore and hind, this most likely being the reason that he was caught. His wings are perfectly functional." He scratched Tilt's ears, which the Pegasus seemed to accept as suitable apology for the insult.   
  
"Monglians are most commonly found in, Mongolia, to be obvious, and certain mountainous eastern European countries, in the mountainous areas." He beckoned them closer.   
  
Harry, beginning to find observing female behaviors amusing, watched as Lavender jockeyed for the position closest to the crouching professor.   
  
"See how the hooves appear to be oversized?" He lifted one of Tilt's feet, his left fore so as not to unbalance him, and showed him the underside. "The frog is dually protected, much more so than is usual in pegasi or even normal horses. It's very soft and flexible." He pressed with a calloused thumb to demonstrate. "This gives them a superior grip on rocky, mountainous terrain, enabling them to perch precariously to reach the choicest vegetation." He let the foot drop but allowed them to stay close.   
  
"And this is why I say his lameness allowed him to be caught." He looked them over, "tell me why."  
  
One of the Hufflepuffs raised their hand, Howard, Harry recalled. Tainn nodded at him. "He wouldn't be able to find his balance on the crags, since he has to favor two of his legs."  
  
"Precisely." Tainn glanced at Hagrid, then back. "Five points...er...what's your house?"  
  
"Hufflepuff, Prof- Tainn." He checked himself.  
  
"Yes, five points Hufflepuff."   
  
Tainn continued, and Harry took a moment to glance around, finding rapt faces and an approving Hagrid.   
  
"So in other words, he went tumbling down the mountain." Tainn said in sing-song. Tilt laid his ears back again. "But anywho, this probably made it worse. The little fellow is lucky someone happened to come around otherwise he would have been fertilizer. 'Course, he still does produce fertilizer."   
  
Tainn's voice grew jollier, and Harry knew he was relaxing. "This little dustmop is very typical of the coloration of his species. They all look like they rolled in a chimney sweep's disposal pile and used their wings to dust the Louvre. Only once did I ever see a pure white Monglian, and she was blind in both eyes. She was also lucky to have someone come across her when she went a tumbling."   
  
And so the lecture continued, Tainn amusing them, and even Hagrid when he told a story about a mare he had been observing, who dropped her foal at the very top of a very tall mountain, literally. Very lucky indeed that it had been a tall mountain, for the wind dried the foal's wings before he reached the ground and he managed to teach himself to fly in record time to save his fuzzy little neck.   
  
"Bad mothers." He told them, more soberly, "That's why they're so rare. There's a small preserve in the Rockies." They looked puzzled. "The Rocky Mountain range in the western United States, and they have been making some progress."   
  
He chuckled, "In an admittedly odd twist, the males of this breed are vastly more intelligent, such as this brilliant dust bunny here. And as most of us know, this is fairly atypical in the animal kingdom, where the females are generally more practical." He shook his head, "The silly little muffin thought it was a GOOD idea to bear her foal on the top of a mountain."   
  
After this he moved on to the practical treatment and care of the Monglian Pegasus, showing them the proper way to clean their hooves, though this was rarely needed due to their foot structure, and how to brush them properly. He informed them that the shaggy coat was shed only during the month of June, on the first full moon, and their coats were sleek and short for approximately two months. The long unkempt hair grew back promptly on the night of the first new moon in August.   
  
He taught them how to dust the wings, they only needed a washing once a month, carefully pulling soft rags from the inside of the wing to the very tips. This proved to be a tricky procedure, as it apparently tickled horribly. Tilt would fling his wings up suddenly, catching a student in the face with one once or twice, in protest, or perhaps in enjoyment.   
  
Harry was working at a knot in Tilt's mane, while Ron was working on the tail. Having heard the warnings from Tainn about kicking, and how very painful it could be, Ron was dancing nervously about every time he had to pull hard on a stubborn knot.   
  
Hermione was carefully dusting the underside of Tilt's wing, where the hair became feather, with Tainn leaning in beside her, ostensibly to help her do it properly, but Harry could hear some of the ribald comments he was murmuring to her.   
  
Harry watched in amusement as Hermione's face grew red. But he also automatically looked to Ron to make sure he was unaware. Although Harry, and, he was sure, Hermione, knew that Tainn was just a terrible tease, Ron, apparently, did not.   
  
When Tainn had told Hermione to call him love monkey, Harry was almost certain that Ron was going to leap out of his chair and throttle the young man, assistant professor or no. Only supreme restraint, restraint that Harry was quite impressed with, had kept it from becoming an incident.   
  
Perhaps, he thought, he should ask that Tainn tone it down a bit, for the sake of his own sanity.   
  
He was aware of someone watching him, and looked around to see that Tilt had twisted his neck around to peer at him with his non-cast eye. Harry could see the intelligence sparkling in it. The Pegasus sniffed at Harry clothes, then took his sleeve in his teeth and yanked, pulling Harry off his feet and tossing him on the ground in front of his forelegs. Hagrid yelped and trotted over, but all that Harry could see, as the Pegasus looked down on him with the liquid brown eye, was amusement.   
  
Harry was just glad that there were no Slytherins around.   
  
Please, please, please review. 


	22. Chapter 22: Half and Half

I do not own Harry Potter, he, and all his affiliations, belong to J.K. Rowling.   
  
  
  
Chapter 22: Half and Half   
  
Harry, Hermione and Ron accompanied Hagrid and Tainn as they led Tilt back to a small shed that had been set up for the Pegasus' use during his stay at Hogwarts castle. It was put together like, and very much resembled, Hagrid's own hut, and had a sense of unexpected permanency about it.   
  
Hagrid did not need to inform them that paddocks would be useless, but he did tell them that Tilt was well trained and would not stray far from the castle grounds. At least, so his owner had assured him.  
  
" Shay tol' me tha' shay took 'im 'roun' tha edge o' tha grounds, so 'ee'd know where they were bein'." He gave Tilt an affectionate pat as he passed. "Smart li'l bloke."  
  
Tainn listened as he slipped off the well-groomed, though still dumpy looking, Pegasus' halter and hung it on a peg, then retreated to an affectionate butt of the head before Tilt turned to a manger filled with mash that smelled strongly of honey.   
  
He was a dainty eater, Harry noticed, taking little bites then chewing them thoroughly, his eyes on Harry and his friends as though asking them if they didn't have anything better to do than watch him eat.   
  
Tainn trotted over to the wall where a set of dark gray robes were hanging, and made a face when he pulled them down off the peg. They smelled of hay and horse.   
  
Tainn didn't seem to mind the aroma as he pulled them on, only that he was more comfortable in his own casual clothes. But they were too muggle for the great hall. He still didn't bother with the shoes though, and padded lightly beside the students and Hagrid as they made their way back up to the castle.   
  
Now that class was over, he seemed a little antsy, alternating between chattering with the others and glancing around in quick, jerky movements.   
  
"What's the matter?" Ron asked curiously, "You're making me nervous."   
  
Tainn grinned at him, though he was smiling like a crocodile with a toothache. "Full moon already."   
  
"But you're not..." Hermione protested, her eyes wide.   
  
"Just makes me a bit jumpy, somewhat temperamental. Mood swings you know." He passed a hand across his forehead, and peered at it as though surprised to find it damp. "But not until the moon is up. Still it's rather nerve-racking."  
  
Hermione had the strangest little smile on her face, but Harry was cautious to ask about its source.   
  
"Wha's all this yere?" Hagrid boomed, having expressed his joy over seeing Harry and the others alive and well earlier.   
  
"Why, didn't anyone tell you?" Tainn looked shocked and amazed. "I'm part werewolf, my mother was one, you see?" He performed a little hop in place when Hagrid stopped suddenly.   
  
"Yer a werewolf?" Hagrid was clearly astonished. He peered down at Tainn over his bushy black beard.  
  
"Yeah...you got a problem?" Tainn asked with a lift of his eyebrow, suddenly belligerent. "I loved my mother." He shook his head and looked momentarily confused, his eyes unfocused.  
  
" 'S jus..."   
  
"I don't become a werewolf, but I do have a bit of wildness in me. It shows itself in strange ways." Tainn jigged in place, happy spirits resumed. "Some say it makes me a bit fey. I think it makes me more interesting."   
  
Hagrid was silent for a moment. Then he began walking again, leaving them to catch up. When they did, he said in a soft voice, "I un'nerstan'. Me mum, she were dif'ernt too."  
  
"Giant, was she?" Tainn asked without censure, showing that there was a mind working behind the wild smile and odd ways.  
  
"Yeah." Hagrid replied after a long moment, but then he became quiet again, moving off quickly and leaving them to follow after him.  
  
Tainn glanced at Harry, then trotted ahead to catch up with Hagrid, whose shoulders were lower than usual.   
  
Harry hesitated a moment, then slowed his step and his friends fell in with him, allowing Hagrid and Tainn to converse in relative privacy. He thought that Tainn, despite his actions, could reach Hagrid in a way that he could not, being that they both shared blood with what most of the wizarding world considered dangerous creatures.   
  
Harry only hoped that perhaps Hagrid would take Tainn into his confidence and depend on him instead of Harry and his friends on the occasions that Hagrid was unable to care for 'Grawpy'.   
  
By the time they reached the castle, the spring was back in Hagrid's step and his beetle-black eyes twinkled as they had before. Tainn's face was deliberately expressionless, but he gave Harry's questioning look a small half smile before following the gentle half-giant up to the main table.   
  
A few minutes later, Harry saw Texi enter the room. She looked pale as she took the seat next to her brother, who smiled at her in greeting. They looked up at the enchanted ceiling in unison, where the clear view of the evening sky still lacked the silvery orb of the moon, then fell into an apparent one sided conversation.   
  
Dinner progressed as dinners often do, with food and conversation. Harry felt an odd sort of pride when all the members of the DA came and sat around him, not even discussing the club most of the time, but comparing notes on homework, those who had had them, discussing the new professors, most agreeing that they seemed to be pretty good.   
  
They wouldn't upgrade their opinions on professor Lanya until at least week two, a result of the bad conditioning they had received from the past five years of Defense professors.   
  
Lavender and Parvati were particularly glowing in their compliments on the assistant Care of Magical Creatures professor's lecture and practical demonstration. They alternated between blushing, giggling, speaking and glancing towards the head table. Harry wondered if they were intending to SHARE Tainn between themselves. He also wondered if Tainn would even mind the arrangement.  
  
Towards the end of the meal, it was they who brought Harry's attention back to the Head Table, for Tainn was standing up. He turned and offered his hand to Texi, solicitously helping her to her feet and tucking her arm in his own as he guided her out the door.   
  
Harry heard Hermione and Ginny stifle their laughter at the sight of Lavender and Parvati's faces. Other than Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron, none of the other students seemed to have the faintest suspicion that the two of them were related in any way.   
  
Ginny, and most of the rest of the DA, starting teasing them about it, while Harry continued to watch the two head out the door, wondering if they were going back up to their apartments.   
  
At first he thought he was the only one who noticed the shadow that had been waiting outside the door, silent and still. One wouldn't have noticed him if they weren't watching closely, or knew that he was in the castle. He saw the shadow flit out and move across the doorway, and the three of them made their way away from the hall, but not in the direction Harry had expected.   
  
He had thought he was the only one who saw Sarven meet his friends, but then, when he turned back, he saw Neville watching the doorway as well, a puzzled look on his face.   
  
"Harry, did you see...something? Something there in the door?" He asked.  
  
Harry didn't exactly want to lie to Neville, but he couldn't have been entirely sure that the shadow WAS Sarven, it was just highly likely. And Sarven, for some reason of his own, didn't want many people of his presence, or even his existence. He had asked Harry and his friends to not even say his name in conjunction with Texi's.   
  
"Couldn't say for sure, Neville." He said finally. He saw Hermione nod on the seat across from him, and Luna Lovegood, who was sitting next to her and Ron, glanced between the three of them with her usual dreamy look.   
  
"Must have been a Gogglebunser." She said airily.   
  
No one deemed that worth an answer, even Hermione, who usually would have contested that claim loudly. But she wanted to draw attention away from the subject, Harry gathered.   
  
Lavender was moaning into her napkin. "The second day, and I've already missed my chance!"   
  
Parvati, looking equally distressed, was patting her on the back. "You're much prettier than her," only a little lie, "I'm sure if you work on it you can make him see that. After all, it's not like he's a REAL professor."   
  
Ginny had to hide her face behind a fold in Harry's robes. He could feel her shaking in laughter against his side. Ron looked confused, but Hermione was having a great deal of trouble hiding her smile, her lips writhing as she tried to keep them pinched disapprovingly.   
  
"He might not be a professor, but he still is a member of the staff," Hermione pointed out.   
  
"You just can't appreciate the allure of an attractive, older man." Lavender said scathingly, she added under her breath, "bunny hater."   
  
Hermione looked astonished, she obviously hadn't thought Lavender remembered that from their third year. "I don't hate bunnies." She sighed. "And I'd rather not talk about what kind of man I appreciate."  
  
Lavender looked doubtful as she pushed a piece of cake dejectedly around her plate. "I never even see you look at a guy, your nose is always buried in a book."  
  
Parvati was equally unconvinced, "Yeah, other than going to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. Have you EVER fancied anyone?"   
  
Hermione blushed and made several attempts to forestall them, until she caught the look on Ron's face. He looked at her as though she had punched him in the nose and stolen his puppy. She stared at him, remorse coloring her cheeks, then looked down at the tabletop.   
  
"Well?" The two girls asked in unison.   
  
The curly haired teenager sighed, shrugged her shoulders, and lifted her hand. Which was entwined with Ron's and had been all through dinner. Harry had been amused by his valiant attempts to shovel food into his mouth with the wrong hand the entire night. The other girls had been too busy ogling Tainn to even notice that Ron had suddenly become left handed.   
  
The girls stared at them, stared at each other, then stared at them again. Then they started to giggle, exchanging meaningful glances.   
  
Hermione stared right back with a quelling scowl, while Ron looked over everyone's heads, embarrassment, or perhaps pleasure at Hermione's admission, coloring his ears a bright red.   
  
"I knew it from the first second I saw the two of them." Luna Lovegood provided. "Like Helma Finklestein and Jorge Nemquist."   
  
"But those actors weren't involved. They both were married, to other people." Lavender said with a lift to her eyebrows. "Plus, Helma died twenty years ago, when Jorge was fifteen! They never even played in the same opera house."   
  
It seemed that Lavender was quite the opera aficionado, Harry mused. He hadn't even known such a thing had existed until she mentioned it.   
  
"But her soul possessed Jorge's wife when she read an incantation to change the flavor of 'Wizard Pops' incorrectly off the back of the cereal box." She said, unperturbed, "It's in our June issue."   
  
"And she was his GRANDMOTHER!" Lavender protested.  
  
Harry shook his head at the mention of the Quibbler. The magazine had had its uses, but the stories were just too out there.   
  
He ignored the ongoing argument, with Luna maintaining the story was completely true, while Lavender tried to persuade her that she was out of her mind. Harry was leaning towards Lavender's point of view.  
  
Ginny was watching the two of them with interest, her elbows propped on the table a safe distance away from the butter dish and her chin cupped in her hands. Her brown eyes flashed with suppressed amusement.   
  
Hermione looked disgusted, while Ron tried to maneuver a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth with his left hand. He didn't show any signs of wanting to release Hermione any time soon, however.   
  
Harry, stuffed completely full and waiting for his friends to finish, listened to Lavender's assertion that no matter how you read it, that incantation couldn't do what Luna claimed, with half an ear as he looked around the room. He only noticed a few glances his way, and decided to ignore them.   
  
At the Slytherin table he spotted the familiar hulking bulks of Crabbe and Goyle, looking terribly grumpy. And between them was the smaller blond figure of Draco Malfoy.   
  
The pale boy was looking even whiter than Harry remembered, and even from this distance he could see dark circles underneath his eyes. He had his eyes on his plate, poking whatever it held despondently with his fork.  
  
But even if Harry had tried, he could not have found it in himself to feel sorry for him. He wanted him to suffer, he found. He wanted his enemy to know the pain he felt. He didn't like this side of himself, but he couldn't deny that it was there.   
  
Malfoy, as though feeling eyes upon him, looked up with a jerk, and his eyes met Harry's. The pure hatred contained within their silver depths was palpable for the long moment that their eyes locked. Then he broke the contact and stood abruptly, his cronies, like faithful hounds, trailing after him as he strode out of the hall.   
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders, heaving off the weight that the stare had left him with. He hadn't even seen that sort of hatred directed at himself from his Potions professor. Not so virulent. He felt a cool shiver move down his spine.   
  
Before he turned his gaze away from the Slytherin table, something caught his eye. It was the Slytherin from his NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The young man raised his hand in greeting as he pushed his heavy dark brown hair out of his eyes.   
  
Harry only hesitated a moment before returning the salute. Then he turned away, placing his attention elsewhere.   
  
Since he had been thinking of his Potions Professor so recently, his eyes almost automatically found him at the staff table, sitting, again, next to Professor Lanya. From the looks of it she was again making a noteworthy attempt at a conversation.   
  
From Snape's expression, he wanted to shove a roll in her mouth to stop her from trying to be friendly as he answered her in repressive monosyllables.   
  
Harry watched the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, curious that Snape's manner had not put her off of him as of yet. Usually, by now, whichever professor who was sitting next to Snape would make it a point NOT to speak to him unless absolutely necessary.   
  
Once, when Snape turned away from her, Harry saw a fleeting look of unhappiness flit across Professor Lanya's face, though it was gone a split second later when he gave her the dish that she had apparently requested.   
  
Harry was just about to look away when another strange look passed over her face, a far-away look, then a great horror that gleamed from her purple eyes. She gasped inaudibly, then stood, wavering unsteadily on her feet.  
  
The look of horror had disappeared so suddenly that Harry thought he had only imagined it. Instead there was a cool, calm look, so calm that Harry suspected it was a mask to hide what the others in the Hall should not see.  
  
A mask like the one he so often wore.  
  
Snape, apparently thinking she had seen something, half-rose with his hand in his robes to grasp his wand.   
  
She turned to him, then, after pressing her hands to her stomach in a nervous, unconscious gesture, said one audible phrase before she left the Great Hall hurriedly.   
  
"The secret is broken, it has been removed."   
  
Dumbledore, his face grave, stood a moment later and followed, while Snape slowly retook his seat.  
  
Harry turned to look at his table-mates, but it seemed that none of them had noticed anything out of the ordinary. He was half-inclined to forget that it had even occurred, but the other half of him, the one that loved a mystery, the insatiable curious side of him wondered.   
  
What exactly had been removed?  
  
Please, please, please review! Your reviews are what keep me going! 


	23. Chapter 23: Answers and Questions

I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns this Magical world. I'm merely borrowing it to entertain myself, and hopefully, others.  
  
Chapter 23: Answers and Questions   
  
Harry stood outside the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office, Hermione, Ron and Ginny surrounding him. They had decided to come with Harry to collect the professor and take her to see the Room of Requirement, figuring that the sooner they decided on a location, the sooner they could get the Defense Association up and running.   
  
But as they had approached they had heard the distinctive sound of raised voices issuing through the crack in the door. They stopped, looking at each other uncertainly. Harry lifted his hand, then paused in mid-knock.  
  
"...was not over-reacting, you just can't understand." Professor Lanya was saying angrily.   
  
They glanced around as the other voice became recognizable as Snape's.   
  
"You may be surprised at what I can understand, Professor Lanya." He replied in a silky, sarcastic voice. "But all this over a book?"  
  
Professor Lanya said something in Hungarian that would probably translate to a very nasty word. "That's not all there is to it!"   
  
"Such language," Snape purred.  
  
"Don't you talk to me about..." She cut herself off, "You speak Hungarian?" she said curiously.   
  
"Igenis." He replied haughtily.   
  
"That surprises me." She said in a ruminative tone of voice.   
  
"We're getting off the topic." He reminded her sharply.   
  
Harry could almost hear her grinding her teeth. "You are the most..." She seemed to be searching for the word. "...infuriating man, Severus." She finally told him in resignation. "The point is, if Karsis is USED..." At this point she stopped.  
  
This was most likely because, at the sound of the name Karsis, Harry had moved closer to the door to hear more clearly. In doing so, his shoe scuffed against the ground. Not loudly, but Professor Lanya had an Auror's trained senses.   
  
A moment later the door to the office was flung open, and a very displeased looking Professor Lanya was standing silhouetted in the light from her office, Snape standing some distance behind her and scowling daggers at the students standing in the hall.   
  
"Potter..." He began, his tone of voice threatening lecture, death, detention, but Lanya forestalled him.   
  
She forced a smile that almost didn't look forced. "Oh, Harry, I am glad you came to see me so quickly, Ron, Hermione." She paused at Ginny, whom she hadn't yet had for class, and Harry provided her name. "Ginny, very pleased, I am. But I am afraid I am being very much distracted tonight. Will you come back tomorrow, yes?"  
  
"Certainly, Professor." Hermione said, beginning to herd the others away.  
  
The door slammed shut before they left the pool of light the green lamp inside the office threw upon the stones of the hallway.   
  
They waited until they had taken their regular chairs near the fireplace before they even took the time to look astonished.  
  
"Surely it can't be the same one." Ron said finally.   
  
Hermione thought a moment before replying. "I think, I think that it must be. Remember, Professor Snape said something about a book, then, not a minute later, Professor Lanya said Karsis."  
  
"But Karsis doesn't exist." Ginny protested, "It's just a legend, a fairytale for people who have lost someone."  
  
"All legends have a basis in fact, you should know that, Ginny." Hermione told her, very gently. Ginny paled and sunk back in her chair. But she nodded. Hermione reached over and squeezed her hand.   
  
"What was it that Sarven said?" Ron asked, oblivious or pretending to be. "There was something about a book that said it was real?"  
  
Hermione looked impressed that he had remembered. "I think this just confirms it."   
  
Harry, meanwhile, was listening with half an ear, saying nothing to the subject of conversation while his mind worked furiously.   
  
A book that could bring back the dead. A book that could bring Sirius back to him, alive, well, whole. It was almost too much for the mind to comprehend. And if he could bring back Sirius, would it be impossible to bring back his parents? Could he finally have them with him, after all these years? Could he have a family again?  
  
He stared hard into the fire, feeling distant from the voices around him, though they buzzed about him like an insect that is too insistent to be ignored.   
  
He suddenly wanted Durry, wishing he had his small furry self curled up against his neck, purring in his ear. He wanted that link to Sirius. Perhaps then this would feel more real, more tangible.   
  
"Do you think it's really possible?" He said suddenly, startling his friends by breaking in where they had been talking of something else, though were still on the same subject, and had already gone over this.  
  
Hermione frowned at him worriedly. "Well, like I said, pretty much anything is possible." She apparently didn't like the look in his eyes, though he was sure she could not see beneath the mask he had firmly in place to hide his desperate hope.   
  
Some time later, Harry lay in his bed, the curtains drawn and Durry snuggled securely against his chest. Near his toes, absorbing the warmth of his feet, Cord was curled in a loose coil.   
  
He answered Ron's concerned, "Harry, are you all right, mate?" With an intentionally sleepy sounding grunt, not wanting his friend to think that he was ignoring him.   
  
His mind was still reeling with hope and the thought of dashed hopes. Even if the Book of Karsis existed, how could he even get his hands on it? He didn't think he could, and the thought of having the means to get Sirius back, but not having access to it drove him to the point of distraction.  
  
He rolled over, taking Durry with him and being careful not to disturb the snake curled up at his feet. As he made himself comfortable again, he suddenly thought about one other time that something that had so taken up his thoughts that he could barely think of anything else.   
  
The Mirror of Erised. It had showed the person who looked into it their greatest desire. When he had first looked into it he had seen his family surrounding him. The last time he had seen himself finding the Philosopher's Stone.   
  
He wondered what he would see in it if he had it before him right at this moment. Would he see Sirius standing at his side, or would he see himself holding a book, an ancient moldering, musty tome, reading the incantation, and knowing his fondest desire would soon be fulfilled. Then he would no longer need to look in the mirror to see his family standing around him.  
  
Unconsciously, he shook his head into his pillow. He also remembered what Dumbledore had told him, while they both sat upon the floor by the mirror. He shouldn't let himself be eaten up by an obsession of something he could not have.   
  
It would be easier, he thought, once he again had the Defense Association to occupy his mind, and once the homework started rolling in. Then he could fill his mind with other things and would not be as able to dwell on it.  
  
He tried to empty his mind, as Snape had told him to do, as Lupin had asked him to do. He rolled over on his back, again taking Durry with him, though this time Durry wriggled in protest at being moved again.   
  
He stared up at the top of his bed, shadowed in draperies. He willed his mind to be like those shadows, empty.   
  
After an interminable time, the blankness came, but in sleep rather than in meditation.  
  
He sat in the common room, ensconced in his favorite overstuffed armchair before the fire. The hearth was blazing, the flames flickering and painting jumping shadows across the wooden floor. He was in his pajamas and dressing gown, his slippered feet stretched out towards the warmth of the fire.   
  
He was watching and waiting for something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that if he sat there long enough, watched hard enough, then what he wanted to appear would come. It felt as though he had been waiting there for a very long time, not daring to blink so as not to miss a thing in the colors of the fire.   
  
After what seemed like hours and again hours, though he knew it must not be for the fire would have died down and the light of dawn would have started tinting the horizon outside the window. Something appeared.   
  
At first it only seemed like a particularly large shadow, rotating in the depths of the flame. Then it became larger and larger, and in the space of a second, became Sirius, stepping out of the grate.   
  
He looked as young as Harry, though there was also a particularly ageless quality to his face, as though he could be any age he wanted to the eyes of others. There was not a speck of soot on him, as though he had only left the bath rather than the hearth. His eyes were unhaunted, his face full and happy.   
  
Harry found himself unable to speak, though he felt the burning rise of tears in his throat.   
  
Sirius sat down in the chair across from him. He did not dent the cushions, as though his form held no weight. He shook back his shoulder-length hair and lounged back, as though it were perfectly natural for him to be there in the common room of his old house.   
  
It would have been perfectly natural but for the fact that he should not be there. It would have been perfectly wonderful but for the fact that he could not be there.   
  
Harry finally found his voice. "Sirius..."  
  
As though that were a cue, Sirius sat forward, his eyes intent on Harry. "You must do what she cannot." He said, his voice sounding less solid than he looked.   
  
Harry felt like screaming in frustration. "What does that MEAN?!"  
  
A sudden weight in his lap drew his attention down. There, across his legs, was a medium sized tome, bound in dark leather. The words on the front were written in runes that he could not read, gold and peeling. They glittered heavily in the firelight.   
  
He opened the book to find words, though also in familiar runes, that he could nonetheless understand. He began to read them, but the book slammed shut suddenly, making him jump. It flew up off his lap and over his head.   
  
Finding that he could move, he leapt out of his seat and whirled to see where it had gone.   
  
It sat, the runes still gleaming with an odd oily light, in the small, slender hands of a small figure, robed. Though the hood was up, it slid back far enough to reveal delicate, shadowed features and glittering, golden, curly hair.   
  
The face, though shadowed, was clearly and terribly tormented, as though this woman was wearing on her face what Harry felt on the inside.   
  
She pressed the book against her chest with one hand, and reached out the other, beckoning. Harry turned again, and saw that Sirius had stood, looking at the woman, his eyes terribly sad.   
  
"You must do what she cannot, Harry. You must." Sirius said again. Then he turned away, moving back towards the fireplace.   
  
It was then that Harry noticed that the fire was out, the familiar mantle had turned into something far more terrifying.   
  
The arch stood unsupported in place of the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. In place of the fire, there was only a rippling gray veil. From behind this veil, within the arch, Harry could hear quiet murmurs, warnings and welcomes.   
  
As Harry stared, the sun suddenly blazed in through the windows, too quickly. Harry squinted, trying to protect his eyes from the glare with one arm.   
  
When his eyes finally adjusted, Sirius was gone, and only the arch and the rippling veil remained. That, and the murmuring voices, one rising above the rest. "You must, Harry, you must."   
  
He spun around, and the woman was gone as well, taking the book with her.   
  
"No," He whispered, "No, no, no! NO!" He cried. "Not again, Sirius! Don't leave me again!" He tried to throw himself at the veil, but found an invisible barrier blocking his way. "Sirius! Sirius!"  
  
He woke, tears streaming down his face, Durry purring soothingly against his chest, his fur pale gray. "Durry," He whispered. "Do you think sometime, he won't disappear on me?"  
  
Durriken, even if he knew the answer, was not going to be giving it to Harry any time soon. Knowing that, Harry resigned himself to attempting for sleep full of unresolved questions.   
  
Please, please, please, review! 


	24. Chapter 24: Searing

I do not own Harry Potter, I am merely borrowing them for the purpose of telling a story. J.K. Rowling is the one who makes the money off of this stuff.   
  
Chapter 24: Searing  
  
The next morning Harry found himself yawning from lack of sleep while he was waiting for NEWT level Charms to begin. When Flitwick clambered atop his usual stack of books, Harry turned his attention to the rest of the class, aware of a big mix of other houses surrounding him.   
  
At the very back corner of the room, Harry could see Malfoy, as usual, flanked on both sides by Crabbe and Goyle. He sat slouched back in his chair, his arm flung along the back, his face set into a lofty expression, as though he were deigning to be there rather than needing to.   
  
Harry frowned, focusing all his attention to Flitwick, who was calling roll. He had known he couldn't possibly avoid the blond-headed, supercilious boy the entire term, but still, the less contact they had with each other, the better.   
  
He blamed Harry for putting his father into Azkaban, even though Lucius Malfoy had brought it upon himself, and in Harry's opinion anyone who supported Voldemort should be locked up with the key thrown away for good measure, particularly those in the Dark Wizard's inner circle.   
  
He frowned, something about that thought wasn't quite right. It tugged at the edges of his memory. Sirius. Okay, maybe they should be given a trial first, some of them.   
  
He focused his eyes on Flitwick as he called the last name, Blaise Zabini, then set his papers down and addressed them all in his high, squeaky voice.   
  
"Sixth years, welcome to the first class of your NEWT level Charms experience. This, and your seventh year, will be the most important two of your lives. In this class, and others, you will be preparing for what you wish to do for the rest of your lives." He regarded them all seriously. "So make sure you study hard, and choose wisely."  
  
He smiled at them all again, pleased, apparently, to have such a large assemblage of students for his NEWT level Charms. It was a testament to his teaching skills that they made it this far.   
  
"I am most pleased to see so many faces remaining in my classes," He continued, "And hope that your diligence thus far carries on into the next two years, so that you may make me proud of you when you take, and pass, your NEWT tests."   
  
Speech done, the tiny man clapped his hands together, "Now, this term we will be starting with the Disillusionment Charm, and of course, its counterpart. Do come up and collect a toad." He gestured at a large tank sitting on a counter to the left of his desk.   
  
Thus class began, continuing on for a full three hours of lost toads, a few stepped on toads, though none were seriously injured, and more successful Disillusionment Charms than Illusionmented toads, so that the count was significantly reduced when those that could be found were returned to the tank.   
  
Flitwick seemed unconcerned over the absent toads, merely shrugging and saying that they would turn up sooner than later. After this class he always had an irate Filch bringing him a few toads that had escaped for a couple of days.  
  
"I daresay he almost looks forward to it." Flitwick winked at Hermione and Neville, who had lost track of his toad. "He has his lectures fine tuned to a point of artistry concerning the matter." Abruptly he cleared his throat. "Er, as is perfectly his right, of course."  
  
"Of course, Professor." Hermione agreed good-naturedly, tapping her toad so that he changed colors to blend into the tabletop.  
  
"Excellent, Miss Granger." Flitwick praised her as she changed the toad back to its normal color with another tap.   
  
Then Neville took his turn as the professor watched, making him nervous. He tapped his toad and it turned into a garish tartan. The toad croaked in surprise, then settled down, flicking his tongue out to catch a passing fly. Neville turned an odd color when this revealed the toad's tongue was tartan as well.   
  
"Why don't you try again, Mr. Longbottom." Flitwick said tiredly, changing the toad back to normal.  
  
"Ye-yes, sir." Neville stammered. He tapped the toad again, and this time the charm worked perfectly, Hermione's toad shifting even as it hopped across a page of notes so that its warty back read of the spell that had changed it.   
  
"Great, Neville." Hermione applauded, while Neville blushed, and Flitwick nodded in approval, having Neville change the toad back before moving on.   
  
Harry was just prodding his toad across a page covered in little scribbles, watching as they slid across its skin, when he felt something strike the back of his robes. He twisted around while twisting his arms back, trying to see what it may be.   
  
He yelped as he felt a burning sensation on his back, creeping up to cover his shoulders, his hands covered with the same feeling where he had brushed his robes. He yelled again and yanked off his robes, throwing them to the floor.  
  
"Mr. Potter, what's wrong?" Flitwick squeaked, hurrying over as fast as his short legs could carry him.   
  
His robes were beginning to smoke, and when he held his hands up in front of his face, he could see large blisters, like those left by boiling water, rise. His shirt clung to his back, and he had an uneasy feeling that the same was happening to the rest of his body.   
  
He stared at his robes, which Flitwick had extinguished, and tried to say something, but nothing emerged from his throat but an agonized cry. He hurt everywhere. He longed to rip his clothes from his smoldering skin and plunge into the nearest glacier fed pond. The nearest was outside the window, yes, out the window, that would be the fastest way. He stepped almost unconsciously in that direction.  
  
"Hospital wing, quickly!" Flitwick cried.  
  
Then he became aware of hands on him, propelling him towards the door, the pressure causing another terrible searing pain. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out again.   
  
Thanks to that lack of noise was able to hear it. Mocking laughter, quietly triumphant, echoing from the far back corner of the room. He turned and caught a glance of Malfoy's smirking face before he was ushered very quickly through the halls and up to the hospital wing.  
  
The moment Madame Pomfrey saw Harry she rushed him away from Ron, sending the other boy back to class. Harry she took into a room filled with tubs, one of which she filled to the brim with cooled water, then poured a generous dose of some blue-green potion into the water. She helped Harry undress most of the way, then left him a pair of trunks and went out of the room for a moment so he could slide into the tub in privacy.   
  
Harry nearly wept with relief when the potion mixture and the cool water met his burning skin. He examined his legs and thin torso, finding that they indeed gained the same blister as on his hands.   
  
What felt the worst, though, was his back. Even after he eased it beneath the water, it felt like it were swathed in smoldering wool. What had Malfoy done to him? He groaned and dunked himself completely under, only to be pulled out a moment later by Madame Pomfrey, who had a firm hand on the back of his neck.  
  
"Don't want you fainting, young man." She said sternly, though he could sense a thread of worry under her businesslike voice.   
  
Even the contact of the room-temperature air on his skin made him want to groan. Only by an extreme act of will was he able to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't keep his eyes from closing, however, as he grimaced.  
  
"You see? This wasn't an accident, Professor Snape. I recognize the effects of a Searing Potion when I see it." She was saying angrily, her voice seeming distant though she still crouched beside the white ceramic. "And this was a particularly strong mixture!"  
  
Harry squeezed his already closed eyes together even more tightly. Then he opened them with a feeling of dismay.   
  
Snape stood beside Madame Pomfrey, examining him closely, his arms folded across his chest. His intense scrutiny made Harry feel like he were one of those specimens in the jars lining the shelves of the Potions master's office. Being in the bath tub did nothing to help dispel this feeling.   
  
He wanted to cringe, but didn't, staring back as defiantly as he could under the circumstances. He wished Pomfrey would take him somewhere else, he didn't like feeling as vulnerable as he did under these circumstances. And he knew that he did not want to get out of the cool water if his life depended on it.   
  
"I shall bring you another mixture that should help with the healing process, Madame Pomfrey," He told her in his cool voice.   
  
Harry felt relieved, 'Good, go away,' He thought.   
  
Snape turned on him and his eyes sharpened. "Do you know who it was that threw this Potion on you, Potter?"   
  
"Malfoy, sir." He bit out triumphantly. "In Charms."  
  
Snape's face tightened almost imperceptively while Harry watched him closely. As he did so, he noticed some things about his face that had escaped his detection before.   
  
Snape looked drawn and paler than was his usual pallor, he had dark hollows beneath his eyes, and his mouth was pinched white. He looked as though he were lacking sleep lately, and had skipped more than a few meals. Harry thought that he knew the cause for this very well indeed.  
  
"Very well." Snape said finally. He turned to Pomfrey, "I shall return momentarily." Then he swept out of the room.   
  
Pomfrey turned back to Harry, her eyes tight. "Are you feeling any better?"  
  
"Somewhat, ma'am," He replied quietly. He felt unexpected shivers beneath the painful burning of his skin and wondered if he were experiencing shock.  
  
"Searing potion!" She muttered angrily. "It gives you second to third degree burns and spreads quickly. It was a good thing that you rid yourself of your robes, they had the greatest saturation. Professor Flitwick had to deliver them with utmost care to Professor Snape so that he could decontaminate them." She spoke swiftly as she levered him into sitting position, and began to apply a salve to his back. It began to feel cooler very quickly, but now he felt cold burning through him, making his body shake and his teeth chatter.  
  
"Mr. Potter!" She said in alarm.  
  
He turned to look at her, finding her very blurry. He tried to say he was alright, but his teeth refused to stop clattering against each other. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he felt himself falling into darkness, hearing her call his name in fear before he slipped out completely.   
  
The strange sensation of cold within heat followed him into the darkness.   
  
He was sitting in a chair, his hands like large pale spiders spread across the faded tapestry of the upholstery. The room he was sitting in was completely unfamiliar, though warm and comfortable, filled with a combination of antique furniture and assorted knickknacks, all in relatively good taste. He appreciated that without knowing why he did.   
  
The large marble hearth was cold, and the wind blew the pale damask curtains into the room, their ends trailing across the floor, and one catching the woman who was standing before him across the arm.   
  
She was a tall woman, neither young, nor particularly old, though a few strands of silver shone in her dark sable hair. Her eyes, wide, unfocused, defiant, were a fetching shade of dark blue that bordered on being purple. She was clothed in a nightgown of pale lawn, that streaked with small spots and streaks of blood that he now saw had emanated from her mouth, the lower lip of which had been bitten nearly through. Bitten to keep herself from screaming.  
  
"You are being unnecessarily difficult." He said in a voice higher than it seemed it should have been. Harry felt frustration behind those words. "Just tell me where it is, and we shall see about sparing you."  
  
"I tell you I no longer know." She spat at his feet, "And I care this for your mercy."  
  
"A pity that you spoil your own lovely carpets." He said warmly, "I had thought to keep them for my own use."  
  
She spat again, this time her expectoration leaving a large red stain on the pale weave.   
  
"Crucio," Voldemort said almost negligently.   
  
The woman arched back, her mouth open in a silent scream, but still she did not utter a single sound. When he lifted the curse she straightened slowly, panting with the effort, swaying to keep her feet.  
  
"Courage, love." A painting behind her cried, a portrait of a swarthy man with black hair and a large mustache, it looked as though he were trying to lean out of the frame, wishing he were not oil and canvas so that he could help her.  
  
"Nothing less, Faddey." She replied with a gasp.  
  
"Touching." He hissed. "Wormtail, do something about that painting."  
  
The short bald man who had been standing behind his chair asked in a squealing sort of voice. "Destroy it, Master?"  
  
"I think not," He felt his face contort into some horrific semblance of a smile. "Silence it."  
  
Wormtail pointed his wand at the painting and muttered something, and the swarthy man froze, motionless, now truly only oil and canvas.  
  
If the woman felt grief, she did not show it. If anything she stood straighter, her eyes burning. She stared at him with cold fury in her eyes.  
  
"Tell me." He demanded again.  
  
"I...do...not...have...it!" She enunciated carefully. "The secret has been passed, broken, kept, I do not know. But I would never tell you even if I knew!"  
  
"Who?" He demanded.   
  
She remained stubbornly silent, though she could not quite contain her scream when the Crucio was once again applied, it contained no words.   
  
"Who."   
  
"I will never tell you." She said as calmly as she could while blood trickled form the corner of her mouth, and seeped from her nostrils. "Never, not in a million lifetimes!"   
  
She spat again, blood landing on the hem of his robes. He twitched them irritably and called Wormtail, who had once been Peter, close. Harry saw Peter lean toward him, shades of revulsion in his eyes that he could not quite hide. "This goes nowhere. Have the others located her niece?"  
  
" No, my Lord, she has vanished." Peter simpered.  
  
"She tells true, she does not know. But her defiance annoys me." He said in a sibilant whisper.   
  
"Shall I take care of her, Master?"   
  
"Hmm...no, I think I will take this one myself. A pity though, she comes from a very old family of purebloods." He did not feel sorry for the situation, instead there was a building feeling of anticipation that was not Harry's own.  
  
He turned back to the woman, "I give you one last chance, I am feeling very generous today." He leaned forward, pointing his wand at her. "Tell me."  
  
"Never!" It was a clarion call of pride and honor. She would not waver, Harry could tell, and by sharing his mind he knew Voldemort knew this as well.  
  
"So be it." Voldemort said. A sickening feeling of excitement coursed through him as he raised his wand to shoulder height, it was a feeling that Harry thought should feel akin to something, but he knew not what.  
  
His mind screamed, 'No! No! No!'. But he knew that nothing he could do would effect the outcome.   
  
"Avada Kedavra!" He said with something akin to joy.  
  
A bright green light shot out and enveloped the woman, then it disappeared and she crumpled gracelessly to the floor, her sightless eyes staring at the ceiling and her sable hair spreading across the pale carpets.   
  
"And now..." Voldemort said carelessly. " I know you're there, Harry Potter. I have been wondering at your absence." Harry's mind tried to shrink back or flee. "Did you wish for me to spare her, or did you enjoy that as much as I did?"   
  
Harry's psyche screamed in mute denial. "Oh, of course you didn't. You wanted to save her didn't you?" There was high pitched, mocking laughter, and with a feeling of searing pain Harry found himself thrust out of Voldemort's mind and back into consciousness.   
  
Harry tried to roll over but hands were restraining him, he was just able to clasp a hand over his mouth before Madame Pomfrey thrust a bowl under his chin and he could vomit, which he did, emptying his stomach completely.   
  
He was aware of more presences that Madame Pomfrey and looked up with wide, horrified eyes to find both Professor Snape and Professor Lanya leaning over him, one with an expression of concern, the other with a blank mask.   
  
"He killed her." Harry gasped at them. "He tortured her and then, and then..."   
  
"Shh..." Lanya told him quietly, laying a cool hand on his forehead. "There will be time." She looked at Professor Snape, who glanced at Madame Pomfrey, who turned to get a vial that Harry recognized as Dreamless Sleep.  
  
He caught her arm as she made to pull away, then paused feeling ridges beneath the material. She shook loose, not un-gently but not as though she didn't think he had noticed.   
  
"Durry, he's my pet chrono." He said urgently. "Could you ask Ron to bring him here?"  
  
"I shall do so myself, Harry, should Madame Pomfrey permit?" She looked questioningly at Pomfrey, who was returning with a glass of potion for Harry to drink.   
  
"I suppose I could allow him in as I have no other patients yet. Just make sure you keep it close." She said reluctantly.   
  
"Thank you Ma'am." Harry said to the both of them, before accepting the glass and downing it before his stomach could rebel again, knowing that even with the potion, he would sleep better with Durry to turn his dreams.  
  
Please, please, please review!! 


	25. Chapter 25: Scratching Itches

I do not own Harry Potter, as I've said over and over. If you don't believe me, just ask J.K. Rowling, she'll set you straight.  
  
Chapter 25: Scratching Itches  
  
Harry was not at first completely sure if he were asleep or awake. He lay in a hospital bed, which he could tell from the all too frequent trips to receive medical attention. He lay on his stomach, his head cushioned by the pillow and was covered in a soft sheet from the shoulders down. He was wearing pajamas, and he itched. He itched terribly.   
  
He squirmed uncomfortably, longing to scratch, and heard Durry chirp from somewhere in the vicinity of the center of his shoulders. He was completely prepared to rub his itching skin mightily, even before he bothered opening his eyes, when he heard a murmur of voices coming closer to his bed.  
  
He froze, thinking. Often he overheard many an interesting thing when people thought he was still asleep. Deliberately, he relaxed again, just burrowing his face further into his pillow in a sleeping gesture. He squeezed his eyes shut and kept his ears open.   
  
"...shocked when I heard him," He recognized the throaty voice of Professor Lanya, "speaking the mother tongue."  
  
"Ah, yes. That would be surprising, seeing as he doesn't know it." He realized it was Dumbledore speaking. "Or, I should say, he didn't."  
  
"But it worries me, very much so." Lanya did sound very worried, close to tears actually. "From what you say, it seems likely..." She trailed off on a choking note.   
  
"I cannot lie to you, Larissa. It does not seem well, there has been no response to our attempts at contact. I have, however, gotten in touch with Charlie Weasley in Romania, and he is heading there with all possible haste." Dumbledore told her gently.  
  
There was a sound of faintly creaking bedsprings, and he figured that the sound meant that one or both of them had taken a seat on the bed adjoining his own.   
  
Harry squeezed his eyes open a slit, and saw that Dumbledore and Lanya had seated themselves side by side. The both looked sober and Lanya seemed very pale. He peered narrowly beyond them and saw that the hall was very dim, in was obviously after nightfall and only a few of the lamps had been lit.   
  
He brought his gaze back, and caught Dumbledore's eyes on him, twinkling faintly. He let out a long sigh, he should have known he wouldn't be able to feign sleep for long around the Headmaster. He opened his eyes with a rueful smile.  
  
"I am glad to see you awake, Harry." Dumbledore said, his eyes still locked on Harry's. Harry felt a peculiar sense of relief, and realized that he had feared he would have the same reaction as he did the last year, when his visions tortured his sleeping and waking moments. He did not hate Dumbledore, even when he was so angry with him that he couldn't see straight. He couldn't think of what to say, so he just nodded.  
  
"How do you feel?" Professor Lanya asked, her voice strange.  
  
"Better, but I itch all over."  
  
"Yes, Madame Pomfrey said that would happen. She will be here in a while, we just wished to speak to you about a few things first." She provided with a sideways glance at Dumbledore. "Will you tell us precisely what you saw?"  
  
Harry gulped and made to turn over so he could prop himself up on his pillows while he talked. He was forestalled by a gentle hand, and looked over to see Dumbledore standing beside his bed, his hand on the boy's arm. "You may wish to stay where you are, Harry. The burns on your back were very severe, and have not yet healed."   
  
Harry's hand crept almost unconsciously to his healing skin. Reminded, the urge to scratch returned full force.   
  
"Ah, we were also informed to advise you not to irritate the healing skin." He added diffidently.  
  
Harry sighed in a long-suffering way. "I'll try not to."  
  
"I'm certain you will." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, what did you see, Harry?" He asked, very gently.   
  
Harry paused, gathering his recollections, his thoughts, and his courage to go through the ordeal again. Another moment it took to reach up and touch Durry's warm fur for reassurance. Finally he began to speak, keeping his voice as steady as he could, and including all the details that he could remember.   
  
He included such things as the color of the curtains, the shape of the room, the stones of the fireplace. He talked about the swarthy fellow in the painting and how Wormtail had silenced him, this occasioning a gasp from Lanya and a grim look from Dumbledore.   
  
The woman he saved for last, finding her the most difficult to talk about. He described her hair, her nightdress, but left out how the blood from her bitten lip had spattered the pale fabric. Then he told of what they said.   
  
At one point, Lanya went so pale that Harry thought she was going to faint outright. "What did she say, again?" She said, her voice little more than a weak whisper.   
  
Harry paused before saying, "Nothing less, Faddey."  
  
"Oh, Merlin." She whispered. "Oh, Merlin."  
  
Harry saw Dumbledore reach over and squeeze her hand. "You must prepare yourself."  
  
"I see that now, I see." She said, closing her eyes and clinging to his hand like a lifeline. "Do continue, Harry." She said at last, her voice slightly stronger.   
  
Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded. He went on, going through the rest of the confrontation, keeping his voice as steady as he could. At several points Lanya nodded, or pressed her lips together so that they looked completely bloodless.   
  
When Harry was done, she didn't move for a very long moment. Then she nodded one more time, and stood quietly. "I must have some time to think." She said, her voice wavering only slightly. "Recover quickly, Harry."  
  
She strode away, her footsteps clacking quickly across the stone floor and echoing against the tall ceilings. She opened the door to the hall, paused a moment, allowing a couple of figures that Harry could not quite make out to pass into the room, then exited.   
  
Dumbledore stood and moved to perch on the end of Harry's bed, smiling at him as Harry saw that it was Mitexi and the seldom seen Sarven.   
  
Mitexi clasped his hand carefully, mindful of his injuries, the Sarven followed suit before they both took the seats that Dumbledore and Lanya had abandoned. Texi glanced at Dumbledore before taking out her wand, touching it briefly to her throat before flicking it at one of the unlit lamps near the bed, brightening the area noticeably.   
  
Harry could see that they both look serious, though he noticed that Sarven also looked a bit skittish, glancing over his shoulder at the door every few seconds as though worrying that someone would enter and find him there.   
  
Texi gazed steadily at Harry, as though trying to read the thoughts that passed behind his eyes. It occurred to him that she probably could, but he found it did not bother him too much if so.   
  
Then she looked at Dumbledore, and her voice sounded in Harry's head. "His mind has been elsewhere, but you are already aware of this."  
  
"Indeed, yes." Dumbledore nodded. "It is troubling, but do you feel any resonance that says another mind is here?"  
  
Mitexi stared again at Harry. "No." She said finally. "The only thoughts in Harry's head belong to Harry."  
  
"That is what I found as well, but it is good to have another opinion." Dumbledore agreed. He looked at Harry. "You may have noticed an area on your schedule designated for independent studies. In fact, I am certain you have noticed."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement. "Wednesday evenings," He said thoughtfully. "I wondered what that was intended for." He looked at Mitexi, then back to Dumbledore. "Occlumency?"   
  
"Right on the first try, Harry. Though ostensibly you will be receiving tutoring for Potions, something Professor Snape insisted upon before admitting you without an Outstanding score on your practical." His eyes twinkled. "Or that's the story."  
  
"Why did Snape," Dumbledore cleared his throat, and Harry quickly corrected himself, "Professor Snape, allow me in, then?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "You may think that I asked him to, but I did not. Sometimes Professor Snape does things for rather unfathomable reasons."  
  
Sarven made a small coughing noise, and Harry glanced at him to find the young man's face perfectly blank. His deep blue eyes, however, were awash with emotions likely equally as unfathomable as Snape's reasoning.   
  
"So, Texi?" Harry continued, changing back to the original subject.   
  
"Yes," her voice echoed in his mind, "I will be helping you. I, Professor Snape, and, as often as he can," She ducked her head at the Headmaster, "Professor Dumbledore."  
  
Harry made a face at the mention of Snape's name. Texi caught it and guessed at the reason. "I managed to get him to answer a few questions I had about his approach, and it seems more of an offensive than defensive beginning. This is not to say that it is not an ineffective method. But I think, knowing you, Scar," The nickname had a different feel to it, and Harry knew she isolated it to his mind, "it is something you would tend to resist."  
  
Harry hesitated, then nodded reluctantly, acknowledging that it probably was not entirely Snape's fault that the lessons had failed.   
  
"You will find my method different, possibly easier to accept, and it should help prepare your mind for Professor Snape's lessons." She smiled faintly, "I've never had someone with your problem under my tutelage before, and I think, of our combined lessons, his will be more useful. My method is more of a reaching out, his seems to be a barricading in." She fell silent, obviously contemplating this whole scenario with her quick and fine-tuned mind.  
  
"I will do my best," He said finally, meaning it and not doubting her sincerity.   
  
"It is unfortunate that you can't keep your chrono with you until you learn to ward your mind." Sarven chimed in with a glance at Durry.  
  
"Yes, we considered that," Dumbledore commented, "I am afraid that he may be a bit more of a hindrance than a help in Harry's classes." He sighed, "This and the fact that the other students are not allowed to keep their familiars with them, and they would resent it. But after this incident..."  
  
Harry shook his head wearily. "No, Durry is better off in my rooms."  
  
Dumbledore nodded approvingly, but Harry noticed that he looked searchingly at Sarven. He wondered what Dumbledore knew about the young man, and what was turning in his mind during those moments.  
  
Sarven shrugged, unaware of scrutiny, or perhaps simply ignoring it. "Just a thought."   
  
"A good one though, and one that we did consider most carefully." Dumbledore assured him again.  
  
Harry asked Sarven. "How do you find the castle?"  
  
"It's very large." Sarven said, leaning forward and resting elbows on his knees with an amused smile for Harry's clumsy change of subject. "I've not explored it much, but it seems that there are quite a few similarities between the castle and Sundonoma. Not on the exterior, of course, and we haven't had the time to accumulate such an array of magical objects in our four hundred years."  
  
"You've found enough to occupy yourself?" Dumbledore asked.   
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Do call me Albus, young man."  
  
"Certainly, sir." Sarven grinned. "Texi supplied me with quite a few volumes of interest to occupy me at least until Christmas."  
  
"The ones I recommended?" This with a significant look.  
  
Sarven returned to look. "Yes. The ones I have looked at seem most enlightening. But, again, I have not been here long enough to do a detailed examination."  
  
"Be assured that you can call on me if you find anything of supreme interest." Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I can always use further enlightening myself, and a new perspective often puts thing in a new light."   
  
He rummaged one of the pockets in his voluminous silver and purple robes, finally coming up with a bag of lemon drops which he offered around before taking one himself and stowing them away again. "Goodness knows my brain gets a bit musty at times."  
  
Harry doubted that entirely. Dumbledore had the sharpest mind of any wizard he knew.   
  
"I will do my best to brush away the cobwebs, Albus, sir." Sarven grinned, and once again Harry thought that the smile both looked completely natural and somewhat out of place on a face so like Snape's.   
  
"I'm certain you will, Sarven. The password is 'Ton-tongue toffee'." He smiled as Harry barked a laugh, remembering his fourth year and an incident with Dudley and the infamous sweets. "I will show you the way now if you do wish it, then you won't have any trouble later."  
  
"That sounds best. I was never a great hand at directions, but if you show me I will no doubt be able to find it again." Dumbledore stood, and Sarven followed suit, both saying farewells to Harry before departing the hall.   
  
Texi remained behind, though she watched them go with her large green eyes. When they exited the hall she sighed once, then turned to Harry. He watched her intently, wondering if she intended to start the lessons right away.   
  
"No, not tonight, Harry." He voice sounded in his mind with an overtone of amusement and a hint of tiredness. "I think that neither you, nor I are quite up to the amount of concentration it requires."  
  
"Are you all right, Texi?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sarven and I had a bit of an...altercation this afternoon." Texi commented wryly. "I think he should do something he doesn't wish to do." A one shouldered shrug. "He can be rather acidic when he's angry."  
  
"Genner said something to that affect at Stepenwolv." Harry nodded, feeling a crick in his neck forming from the effort of twisting it to look at her.   
  
Texi noticed and moved to a location easier seen, then took up the conversation again. She grinned. "Ah, yes. Genner and Sarven are best friends, for all that Genner is several years older than the two of us. They were quite the team at school."  
  
Harry tried to imagine it. He could see Sarven at school easily enough, for he had seen his look-alike at the age of fifteen years. The problem was that Genner reminded him somewhat of both Remus and Sirius, with the one's sandy complexion and mild nature, and the good looks and aristocratic bearing of the other. Though they didn't really look alike, Harry couldn't help but think there was a resemblance.   
  
It was this sort of strange familiarity of the two young men that made it seem unlikely that they were friends, let alone best friends. Texi seemed to notice his doubt, though she couldn't possibly know the cause.   
  
"I know it's unlikely," She smiled, abruptly laying herself down on the bed next to Harry's so they could look each other in the eye. "There's a story behind it. You see, one day, I think it was in our second year, and Genner was in his fourth year. It was a little after Sarven came to live with us, and Genner was teasing him about something. Something rather harmless, really. So Sarven..." She had to pause here to giggle at the memory. "Sarven somehow hexed him so that every time he spoke his nose grew. I think it was nearly a foot long before Genner convinced him to reverse it."  
  
"But wouldn't he be mad?" Harry asked in confusion.   
  
"On the contrary, he was impressed. Genner has a terrific sense of humor." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tric takes credit for it, but it was actually Genner that gave Sarven his nickname."  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked in an equally sotto voice.   
  
Texi looked about the room as though searching for hidden listeners. "Well, but you must swear upon your wand that you'll never tell a soul."   
  
Harry swore.  
  
She rolled off the bed and knelt beside him so she could whisper it in his ear. "Geppetto."  
  
Harry caught the reference, Pinocchio having been one of the untouched books in Dudley's second bedroom. Untouched, that is, until Harry moved in. He chuckled.  
  
Texi leaned back and nodded, still kneeling on the floor. "Now, before your Madame...Poddy?"  
  
"Pomfrey." Harry provided.  
  
"Certainly." She agreed. "But as she will descend upon us at any moment, having only allowed us a limited time with you, I must get to the point of my remaining." She picked herself up and perched again on the bed, adopting the stance of elbows on knees that Sarven had utilized earlier.   
  
"The greatest technique, the most useful technique, the most necessary one, in the arts of both Legillimency and Occlumency, is meditation. I know Professor Snape has told you to clear you mind every night, and so did Remus, but have you been?"   
  
She took Harry's guilty look for a no. "Yes, I thought so." She said without judgment. "But they didn't really tell you how to go about it, did they?"  
  
"There's a specific way?" His hand unconsciously crept to his side to rub surreptitiously.  
  
"No scratching." She warned, and his hand shot back to its place near the pillow.  
  
She laughed her soundless laugh before continuing her former thread. "Not quite. But it's much better than merely sending you off with obscure directions and giving you no way to really follow them." She shook her head, saying in an exasperated voice. "Men."   
  
Harry wondered if she included him in that category.   
  
"All right, Harry. So you can get back to sleep, I will try to make this brief, and we can continue tomorrow night so you can tell me if it worked or not." She looked at him closely. "I want you to pick something, something that has meaning for you, or even something that doesn't, but usually those things in the first category work better. It can be an object, a person, an animal, pretty much anything."  
  
"What I want you to do is to picture that thing in your mind, so clearly that it seems you are looking at it. Don't worry if it doesn't work right away, this is not a very easy thing to do."   
  
The young woman leaned forward again, and Harry blinked at the intensity in her eyes, feeling compelled not to look away. "Pour everything into this image, let it hold it for you until you want to take it out and look at it. Let it have all your worries, your fears, even your joys. Let it hold your hopes and your memories. It will keep them for you, until you are able to empty your mind of even it."   
  
"It sounds..." Harry faltered. "What do you see?"  
  
"A dryad tree near my house." She answered without hesitation. "It is a beautiful tree, and if I picture it." She closed her eyes for a moment, "I can see it at the height of summer, smell the green of the leaves and the damp of the soil, hear the wind in the branches and the voices of the birds, see the light dappling the loam around its roots." She opened her eyes again. "It holds all I want it to, and well."  
  
"Like a Pensieve?" He asked.  
  
She thought a moment. "A bit." She said finally. She glanced over her shoulder, and a moment later, Harry saw the white uniformed figure of Madame Pomfrey enter the ward, a jar in her hand.   
  
"Choose wisely, Harry." She said, "I will see you tomorrow." Then she brushed his hair with her fingers, turned on her heel, and strode out with a nod as she passed Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"Well, now that I can tend my popular patient." She said sniffily when she reached Harry's bed. "Let's get some of this potion on you."  
  
Harry wondered for a moment if it was the potion Snape had provided, and a minute later he no longer cared. Whatever it was took away the itch and, even if Snape had brewed it, for this he was profoundly grateful.  
  
A time later, his wounds pronounced to be healing, and likely gone by morning, Harry lay on his side, Durry curled up against his stomach. He stared into the dim darkness of the ward, his mind on Texi's request of an earlier time. He thought of things he may use, discarding them one after the other.   
  
Durry? No, that would probably not be a good idea. Seeing that the little chronogryffon was in tune with his emotions he might be giving the poor fellow a complex all unknowingly.  
  
Cord was out of the question. Snakes had too many bad associations in his mind.  
  
He thought of his friends, his Firebolt, the whomping willow, Arthur Weasley's car...which was still roaming wild in the Forbidden forest. He didn't think any of those would work.  
  
He was just about to give up and turn over to get some sleep when another image appeared in his head. It was a large black dog with large feet and jaws. His eyes were human in a patient canine face. Harry could see it as though it were laying right before him, watching him intently.   
  
'Yes,' He thought, and the dog wagged its tail, almost surprising him.   
  
He had almost no trouble pouring his emotions into the dog. After all, Sirius was the only one he could trust to hold his deepest fears and his fondest dreams.   
  
His mind blank, his thoughts safely tucked away in the dog's image, Harry finally fell asleep.  
  
Please, please, please, review! 


	26. Chapter 26: Training

Harry Potter is owned by the illustrious J.K.Rowling. I am merely borrowing this magical world to tell a story.  
  
Chapter 26: Training  
  
When Harry left the hospital wing the next morning, Durry on his shoulder, and his skin pink and new looking, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Harry could see Hermione let out a breath that she had been holding, obviously relieved to see him whole.   
  
He himself felt a great deal better, though his back was still slightly sore, and he moved a bit stiffly. He couldn't, however, seem to bring himself to smile at them when they fell in beside him, providing him escort back to the common room. Harry actually got the feeling that they were acting as bodyguards, something he felt confirmed when Ron stared hard at every cluster of students who crossed their path.  
  
Harry pursed his lips as Ron glared at a small group of first years, who looked startled before scattering.   
  
"You don't need to watch over me." Harry commented crossly.  
  
Hermione looked prim while Ron looked guilty.   
  
"We just want to make sure you're all right, Harry." She told him. "Everyone wanted to come and see if you were okay but Ron and I overrode them."  
  
"Everyone?" Harry asked with a lift of one jet eyebrow.  
  
"Pretty much everyone." Hermione demurred.   
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders, testing the tightness of the skin on his back.   
  
"What happened after I left?" He asked with a grim look, wondering if Malfoy had managed to get away with it.  
  
"Well, mate." Ron commented with a shrug. "After Flitwick removed the sealing charm he had put on my hands so I could take you to the hospital wing, the class was nearly over."  
  
Harry glanced at Hermione.  
  
"Professor Flitwick was angry." She told him quietly. "I've never seen him quite so furious. He threatened to give everyone detentions if whomever had done it did not give themselves up."  
  
"So Malfoy got away with it." Harry muttered very darkly.  
  
"Not entirely," She corrected him. "But Flitwick determined the general area from which the potion was thrown. And, well, everyone knows how things are between you and Malfoy."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"Malfoy or Flitwick?" Ron asked.  
  
"Either...both." Harry said.  
  
"Malfoy was going to get away with it, I think." Hermione said, a small smile blooming on her face, "Flitwick really wasn't about to give all of us detentions..."  
  
"And..." Harry prompted.  
  
He spied Ron grinning out of the corner of his eye. "I just got back in time to see it."   
  
Hermione coughed slightly, perhaps covering a satisfied laugh. "Snape came in."  
  
"SNAPE." Ron repeated with emphasis.  
  
Hermione eyed him. "Yes, Ron I do think that's what I said the first time." Ron looked abashed, and Hermione shook her head before reaching across Harry to touch his arm. "As I was saying, then. Snape came in, and he looked really angry. And you know how Snape gets when he's angry."  
  
Ron jumped in. "He called Malfoy out into the hall, but didn't even shut the door all the way before he called him ten kinds of fool and gave him detention for a week."  
  
"And Malfoy's his favorite." Harry commented.  
  
"It sure didn't seem like it yesterday, mate." Ron shrugged. Harry looked to Hermione, who nodded.  
  
"Maybe he was more angry that Malfoy was so easily caught, than by the fact that it was ME he was after." Harry mused.  
  
He caught Hermione looking at him repressively. "I really don't think that was it, Harry." She said quietly. "It may've been that he was forced to punish him, there was no way around it. It could have been something else completely."  
  
Harry made to protest, then remained silent, his thoughts turning to the year before and the incident with the Pensieve. He couldn't share the experience with his friends, he wouldn't even. Not even Snape had deserved that kind of treatment, he thought wryly, and he would not share it around, particularly because his father and his godfather had been the ones responsible.   
  
But he thought that that incident may have been one of many, and perhaps something similar had once happened to Snape at the hands of his tormentors. That, in itself, could have incited the anger Hermione had described.  
  
His friends must have noticed his silence, but allowed it as they accompanied him back to the Gryffindor common room. He was at the same time grateful that they were letting him order his thoughts, but he also wished they would turn the subject to something else so he could turn his mind away from Snape.  
  
As they trod through the hallways, up stairs and through tapestries Ron seemed to get more and more fidgety. He scratched his nose, glanced at Harry, opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it again.   
  
Finally, after several repetitions of this, when they were nearing the common room, Harry tired of watching him and asked. "Something else on your mind, Ron?"  
  
Ron glanced at Hermione, who nodded.   
  
"Well," He began. "Remember how Professor Lanya told us to come back the next day after we overheard her talking to Snape?"  
  
"Yes, I remember." Harry said. He thought briefly about telling them about her distress of the night before, but then he would have to go into other things he wasn't ready to talk about yet.  
  
"Well, we figured that we should go ahead and take her to the Room of Requirement, and Neville and I decided to go."  
  
Harry looked to Hermione questioningly.   
  
"I was working on something and couldn't get away." She provided.  
  
"We went to her office, and we heard something." Ron gulped nervously, as though this had made him uncomfortable. Harry motioned at him to go on. "It...sounded like someone was crying. We...er...decided it might not be the best of times."  
  
Harry hesitated, then nodded sadly. "I think Lanya got some bad news." He said finally. "Perhaps we should wait for her to bring it up again before we go ahead."  
  
Ron looked at him oddly, obviously wondering what Harry wasn't telling him. He felt Hermione's stare as well on his other side, curious and calculating. He was spared, though, from further questioning by their reaching of the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Splendiferous." Hermione said, and the portrait swung open to reveal the common room entrance.   
  
Harry and his friends entered to find a nearly completely empty common room, most of their fellows already down at breakfast. The exception to this was one slightly pudgy boy who was sitting at one of the tables, a book and several papers spread before him, his hands in his sandy hair. Neville looked up briefly as they entered.   
  
"All right, Neville?" Harry asked.   
  
"I...wanted to get an early start on my Potions homework." Neville said with an edge of despair in his voice.   
  
Harry had to fight to get his face to remain still. Of all the people in Hogwarts, Neville was the last one that he had expected to get into NEWT level Potions. He wondered how on earth Snape had been persuaded to keep Neville in his classes.   
  
"That's from yesterday?" Harry asked. The one good thing about being stuck in the hospital wing overnight was that he hadn't had to go to Potions.  
  
"Yeah," Neville said. "He wants an essay on time released Potions, twelve inches."  
  
"We started on timed Potions?" Harry asked, gulping. They were some of the most complicated and difficult of potions to brew.   
  
Neville nodded grimly, picking up a cup of coffee from among the papers and peering in it before taking a sip. "The way he talked about this year in Potions, I think we're all going to be seeing poisons everywhere we look."  
  
"Constant vigilance." Hermione said under her breath.  
  
Harry glanced at her, seeing the mischievous twinkle in her eye as she winked at him. "Was there any more homework assigned?" He asked.   
  
"Flitwick only gave us a few chapters to read, one to four, he was too distracted by what happened to order his thoughts properly, I think." Hermione told him. Harry nodded. "For Potions, the essay Neville is working on." She peered at him closely. "You might want to work on it this afternoon when you have the free time slot."  
  
Harry had forgotten that he had no classes between Transfiguration on Wednesday mornings or on Thursday mornings. He thought that this year he should use his time more wisely and perhaps get his homework done early rather than at the last minute. With all his free time, he could also put in more effort on the DA, and quidditch.  
  
"Well," Hermione shrugged. "I don't really have any free time, but I suggest you fill up a couple of those empty hours with the optional courses that will be offered. I'm going to have to make time for the Apparition class."   
  
"Do you know the others?" Ron asked, obviously hearing this, as Harry was, for the first time.   
  
"Well, Professor McGonagall told me about a class for students who are interested in becoming animagi."  
  
"Cool!" Ron exclaimed.   
  
"Yes," She agreed with some resignation. "I may have to find time to squeeze that in as well."  
  
"Careful, Meow," Harry said quietly as she walked up with them to their dormitory so that Harry could collect his books for Transfiguration, leaving Neville in the common room. Harry could faintly hear him gathering up his papers and wondered if he was in Transfiguration as well. He continued after a pause, during which Hermione gave him a disgruntled look. "Or you may need a Time Turner again."  
  
She gave him a half smile, "It did turn out to have many uses, though." Then she frowned, turning away almost before Harry saw the glint of tears in her eyes. She sniffed quietly, "If I have to I'll just speak to the Professors about tutoring in the evenings."  
  
Ron moved over to her and placed an arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently as Harry deposited Durry on his bed and picked up his Transfiguration textbook. He glanced at the title, 'Advanced Transfigurations,' and in small print beneath it, in a very unfriendly looking font, 'NEWT level 1.'   
  
He put in his bag, spared a pat for Durry, and was just about to turn away when he noticed something. "Have you two seen Cord?"   
  
Ron pursed his lips, scratching again at the side of his long nose. "I haven't. But he's probably out hunting, right?"  
  
Harry hesitated, looking at the bed that was empty save for Durry for a very long moment then shook his head wryly. "I'm sure you're right. I was just worrying...because, well..."  
  
"You did give order him not to bite anyone, didn't you?" Hermione asked pointedly.  
  
Harry felt himself relax a bit, "Yeah," he nodded. Then he looked at his watch. "We'd best be going." He told them. They turned and trooped out, gathering Neville on the way.  
  
Harry took his seat with his friends surrounding him. He noticed that Neville sat behind him and wondered if that was in order to deflect any chance attacks from the sullen looking Malfoy, who was sitting without his usual lackeys, but with Pansy Parkinson leaning in next to him, whispering in his ear.   
  
He seemed to be ignoring her for the most part, though at one point when she glanced at Harry's group and with a very unattractive smirk whispered something to him, he sneered.   
  
Harry didn't really care what the pug-faced girl said to the sharp-faced boy. He was frankly disdainful of the two of them, and after all, he hadn't even recovered from the attack Malfoy had made on him the day before.   
  
He found great delight on thinking through his litany of curses and hexes that he would be happy to use on Malfoy. Maybe he had something with potential in the bag of tricks he had bought from Fred and George.   
  
He was quickly distracted from his thoughts of revenge when McGonagall entered, swinging her long staff rather than leaning on it. It seemed she didn't need it often but had grown used to carrying it around. She leaned it on the side of her desk as she took her chair and peered around at them.  
  
"This is NEWT level Transfiguration. Because you have made it this far, I assume you are prepared to take on the hard work and long hours that are required in order to pass your NEWT examinations." The stern faced witch peered at them over her square framed glasses. "And I fully expect you to pass."   
  
She stood, bracing herself on the smooth desktop. "I fully expect you to pass." She repeated for emphasis. "And this means you will perform to the best of your abilities throughout this year and the next." She looked at them as though daring them to protest. The silence reigning through the room was cloying.  
  
She seemed satisfied with the results of her small speech. Professor McGonagall nodded and took up the roll sheet, glancing at it, then at the room. Apparently she was familiar enough with their faces to no longer call them out.   
  
"Very well then, the best time to start is right away." She said in clipped tones. "Take out your quills, and be prepared to exercise cramped hands by the practical part of the lesson."  
  
Harry did indeed find the need to stretch his fingers back into normal shape by the end of class, when his hand wasn't clasped around a quill, busily scratching away on the transfiguration of small stones into guinea pigs, concentrating on the change in mass, it was clasped around his wand, trying to accomplish it. He was sitting at his desk, his abnormally small guinea pig squeaking on the desk before him, massaging his hands, when McGonagall got around to mentioning the extra classes Hermione had been talking about.  
  
"Before you go to your lunch hour," The mention of lunch made Harry's stomach grumble, protesting the small breakfast Madame Pomfrey had made him eat, "I would like to have a list of names of those interested in Apparation class, and a class that has not been provided here in former years, Animagus Training." An excited murmur passed through the class.   
  
McGonagall silenced them with a stern look. "The animagus training is offered only to those in NEWT Transfigurations, and you must expect to do a lot of work in addition to your normal class work. It is not a simple process. The class will be meeting on every other Thursday afternoon beginning next week." She continued after passing her gaze significantly around the class.  
  
"Now, as most of you know, Apparition is something that you will also be tested in before you are able to get a license and you will only be able to freely use this skill until you reach the age of seventeen. This class is open to all students, and meets Friday morning of every other week, starting the week after next. Professor Flitwick will be your instructor."   
  
She picked up her quill from the quill stand on her desk and looked around. "May I see hands for those who are interested in the Animagus Training? Be reminded that I will permit no lagging in either this class or, if you choose to take it, the training."   
  
She looked satisfied at the number of hands that were raised, Harry and Ron's among them. Hermione looked vastly disappointed, and mouthed 'Arithmancy' at Harry's questioning glance.   
  
There were a great deal more hands, practically everyone's really, for the question of those who would attend the Apparation classes, Hermione again leaving her hand down and looking terribly disappointed.   
  
She stayed a moment, however, to speak with McGonagall after the class had been dismissed, her friends waiting in the hall for her. She emerged much more cheerful and Harry knew, though he had had no doubt that McGonagall would agree, that they had come to an arrangement.   
  
"Thursday evenings," She announced cheerfully as they made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch. "She thinks I will do well in the class, and urges me to seriously consider the cat form."  
  
"Speaking of cats...?" Ron said.  
  
Hermione looked disgruntled. "Mum doesn't want to give him up yet."   
  
Ron patted her shoulder, making commiserating noises. "I'm sure she'll let him go sooner or later." He told her as they pushed their way through the heavy doors, their opening admitting the raucous noises of the lunching students.   
  
"Sometimes I worry," She said in a loud whisper, "How he'll react to Cord."  
  
Harry hadn't considered that. He often found himself forgetting that Cord had been one of Voldemort's creatures. He merely shrugged at Hermione's look. "We'll just have to see, I suppose."   
  
He looked up at the head table, scanning their faces, noting Professor Lanya's absence. Yes, he'd just have to see about a good many things.   
  
Please, please, please, review!!! 


	27. Chapter 27: First Lesson

I do not own Harry Potter. I only own my original characters, of which there are many and all of whom I am fond of, and the story.  
  
Chapter 27: First Lesson  
  
Harry was frankly exhausted that evening, supper weighing comfortably heavy in his stomach and rendering him sleepy and content. He yawned as he made his way up through the halls that led to Mitexi's apartments. He rather wished they had been a bit more accessible.   
  
Finally he climbed the final staircase and arrived at the painting of the ballet dancer, who eyed him cheekily while waiting for the password. It was evidence of his tiredness that he stared at her blankly, trying unsuccessfully to summon the word to mind. Some sort of fruit? Or was it a vegetable?  
  
"Take your time, cutie." The dancer told him, moving to her bar and starting some stretches. Harry watched her movements for a few moments, sufficiently distracted. Another couple of long moments later, he heard voices in the room, coming closer to the other side of the portrait.   
  
"Suppose he got lost?" He heard Tainn saying. "I mean, judging by the odd places Sarven's turned up over the past couple days..."  
  
There was a sharp yet unintelligible reply to this, and Tainn laughed in his wild way. "Settle, lad." Tainn commented. Another sharp reply greeted this. "Yes, yes, I know. You're not a lad anymore. Nineteen years make a man old, right?" Harry heard Tainn's voice fading as though he moved away from the portal.  
  
He forced his sluggish mind into action. "Avacado!" The portrait remained closed, the dancer laughing quietly as she performed a pas de chat. "Er...guava?" He asked. She shook her head, leaping into a jete. "Can I get a hint?" She merely turned her back on him.  
  
Harry sighed and sagged against one of the walls, closing his eyes. It was just on the tip of his tongue. He was just about to start yelling, hoping someone would hear him, when the painting swung open and Texi leaned out, spying him.   
  
"It's Kumquat, remember?" Her amused voice sounded in his mind.  
  
"Augh, I do now." He buried his face in his hands before climbing in after she withdrew. A sudden question struck him. "How do you get in, Texi?" He asked, "You said portraits can't hear you?"  
  
"Yes, that's true." She said. "I use a code of sorts, Dumbledore told her to accept it."   
  
Harry straightened, looking about the room with heavy eyes. The first thing he spied was Tainn, sprawled across a sofa across from the fireplace, as boneless as a puppy and with his arm flung over his eyes. He lifted it slightly to peer at Harry, then, with a wink, lowered it again.   
  
The next thing he noticed was Sarven sitting by the window, in front of a canvas tilted to catch the waning light of the evening sky. He glanced at Harry, smiled, then turned back to his work, selecting a pale carmine from his pallet and making delicate strokes across the painting that Harry couldn't see.   
  
Texi caught the direction of his attention, and nodded, although she seemed somewhat ambivalent about the whole thing. Her eyes became suddenly tired.   
  
"Sarven paints?" Harry asked at last.  
  
"Yes," She told him, "He does paintings to pay for his habit of buying every book he gets his hands on, scholars don't really make much unless they're published." She tilted her head towards the pile of books littering the long table along one of the walls. There was a small cleared space in the middle, cleared of books, that is. It was scattered with parchments filled with scribbled, ink spotted notes, and a battered looking quill.   
  
"It also relaxes him," Texi said. "or so he claims."  
  
"Who is he painting?" Harry inquired.  
  
"His favorite subject." Texi told him repressively, her tiredness becoming more pronounced.   
  
Harry was still curious, but from her manner this was another thing that she was reluctant to talk about. This seemed to be a common pattern concerning Sarven.  
  
Texi changed the subject. "Shall we begin your lesson?"  
  
"I guess so." Harry replied, wondering what her lessons would consist of.   
  
She guided him to a quiet corner of their comfortably sized common room, seating him in one cushy armchair while plopping herself down with a sigh in the other. She looked at him, her pretty face set into lines of concentration.   
  
"Did you find a receiver?" She asked suddenly.  
  
"A receiver?" He asked in confusion.  
  
"I'm sorry. I mean, did you find what I asked you to look for last night?" She clarified with a half smile. "I just use the term for convenience." She asked again, "So did you?"  
  
Harry ducked his head, wondering if she would ask about it, wondering if he could bring himself to talk about Sirius. Sometimes he did wish to talk about him, the problem was he wasn't sure who to talk to.   
  
"Very good." Texi smiled, "I won't ask you what it is, it is often best to keep it to yourself."  
  
"Then why did you answer when I asked yours?" He asked curiously.  
  
"One often does things for reasons that they themselves do not know." She told him, "But I think it may have helped you to know, did it?"  
  
"Yes," Harry nodded. "It gave me the idea of what it should be like."  
  
She tilted her head back against the back of the chair and surveyed him over her lower eyelids. It was an odd pose, Harry thought.   
  
"Well, then." She said finally, "I have heard from Dumbledore that you have experienced feeling impression, that you could feel Voldemort's emotions. Has that been happening recently?"  
  
Harry thought back, then shook his head. "No, I don't remember any occasions, not even when I didn't have Durry with me."  
  
"Actually Harry," She said in a serious voice. "Durry would have had no effect either way on those types of reception. Chronogryffons only operate through the sleeping, or unconscious mind."  
  
"So what does that mean?"  
  
"He must be keeping you out," She told him thoughtfully.  
  
"And my dreams?" He asked, "What about when...?" He trailed off on her sharp look.   
  
"What dreams?" She asked, her voice cracking like a lash in his mind. He shook his head, reluctant. "Harry..."  
  
"True dreams," He spat out as though the words were forced from his mouth. "But not from Voldemort. Remus said that Durry couldn't prevent me from dreaming them, but could, I don't know, move them somehow."  
  
"Move them, shift the pathways...take your vulnerability and turn it into a strength...but for what is this strength?" Her voice murmured, her eyes seeming to turn inward. "It isn't strong enough to stop the dreams...or is it?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his hands gripping the green plush arms of his chair.   
  
Her crystal green eyes focused on his with a start. "I forgot to shut it off, eh?" She smiled ruefully. "I really don't know what I mean, I was letting my thoughts ramble."  
  
Harry looked at her doubtfully.  
  
"What do you dream, Harry?" She asked, holding her hand up in a helpless gesture at the expression on his face. "I must know. Speak quietly and I'll make sure they don't hear." This with a glance at her roommates.  
  
Tainn was still flung across the couch and Sarven was turning his canvas and lighting a lamp so he could continue his work even as the sunset tinted mountains faded into darkness. Harry could just make out a human figure set against light blue draperies. Then Sarven took his seat again, blocking it from view.  
  
He looked back to Texi, who was watching him expectantly.   
  
He told her briefly what he had told Remus in the cabin on the Ramien, wondering briefly if Captain Joseph got his new ship. Then he realized that he was trying not to think about what he was saying.   
  
When he was done, Texi stared at him with pursed lips. "Your godfather...fell through the veil?" She asked for clarification.  
  
"Yes," Harry told her, blinking rapidly.   
  
She sighed soundlessly, shaking her head, "Once again you give me something that sets your case apart from any other I have known." She finally shrugged helplessly. "All that aside, for now, we must get started, the hour grows cold."  
  
Harry thought that an interesting expression. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
She nodded at him, "We will start with you using the receiver to empty your mind of all thought. Then I will try to enter your mind. You will concentrate on pushing me out, shutting me out, forcing me out. You'll know when you hit on something that works."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and summoned up the form of the great black dog in his mind, again wondering at the clarity of the vision as it came into being, looking at him with its strangely human eyes.   
  
"Can you see it with your eyes open?" Texi's voice sounded in the blank space surrounding the image. Harry saw the dog's ear twitch. He opened his eyes and was surprised to see that he could still make out the image of the dog. It looked like it sat beside Texi's chair, staring at him.   
  
He nodded, his eyes glued to it. Taxi shifted in her chair to glance at what held his attention, but of course she saw nothing. "Is it so clear?" She asked.  
  
Harry, not trusting himself to speak, merely nodded again.   
  
"Well, then. Do as you did last night. Pour everything into the image, clear your mind." She instructed him.   
  
Harry did so, noting that as the image accepted his emotions it seemed to grow more distinct, while everything else in the room faded into unimportance. Soon it was as though he wasn't even really there, just a formless mass called Harry occupied the space in which he had sat.   
  
The being that was Harry stared at Mitexi, who slowly emerged from the formlessness of the room so that only she and the dog were clear among the white shadows.   
  
"Do you see me? Can you hear me?" He nodded again. "Close your eyes." She instructed.  
  
He did so, but even in the act the picture did not change. Mitexi still sat in the misty room, the dog that was Sirius sitting beside her, radiating tension. "You still see me." She said. "Why? Why do you see me?"  
  
Harry found he couldn't speak.  
  
"Can you not control your own mind? Do you wish to share your thoughts with others? Take control of your own psyche." He voice sounded, low and insinuating, somehow scornful. "Do you wish me to sift through your memories? Find your most dangerous thoughts?"   
  
The image of Mitexi lifted her hand, her fingers spread as though she let sand trickle between them. He other hand moved beneath it and he could see something sparkle in her palm. "What's this I see, Harry? Could it be the memory of your breakfast this morning? No."   
  
She plucked something from her palm and held it glittering between the tips of her thumb and index finger. She released it and it hung in mid-air, growing larger and Harry could see shapes flickering within it. "No, Harry."  
  
He became aware of trembling in his limbs that were not limbs, felt beads of sweat on his non-existent forehead. He tried to fight away the memory she had plucked from within him.   
  
"Why do you fight the memory and not the one who summoned it, Harry?" She said very quietly. She peered at him through the translucent screen the spark of light had become, watching the figures move.   
  
There were great sliding hooded figures, they surrounded a man curled on the ground, his head guarded by his arms. The moon hung heavy and full above them. "Sirius." He forced himself to whisper.   
  
"Would you like to see another, Harry?" She waved her hand, clearing the image of Sirius. But why before his rescuer had appeared, why? She plucked another spark from her hand. Sirius in the Shrieking Shack. Another, Sirius at the cave where he had stayed hidden in Harry's fourth year. Another, Sirius falling, falling, falling, the darkness of the veil embracing him.   
  
Harry tried to rise, to strike at the memories, to banish them.  
  
"Why do you allow this, Harry?" Mitexi said, and his fury turned on her. "Why don't you stop me? You lose your composure, you lose your control, you open yourself to it. ...You are afraid."   
  
Harry struggled within himself. Horrible anger warred with the knowledge that he must stop this, he must use any means.   
  
Another, Sirius tossing Kreacher out the door, sealing his own fate.   
  
He must not feel, he realized. He must not let this affect him. He must close himself to it and make his mind his own.   
  
Another, Sirius singing Christmas Carols.   
  
He felt as though he were burying his face in his hands, if he had a face, if he had hands. Then he looked up, seeing the memories flashing before him.  
  
Another, the first time he had ever seen Sirius. A great black dog watching him with bright, glowing eyes.   
  
He heard a voice in his head, and shifted his vision, seeing the dog still beside Texi's chair, his eyes bright and glowing, a peculiar tension in him, as though he were waiting for some action.   
  
"Are you calling me a COWARD?!" Roared the memory of Sirius's voice. Harry heard himself echoing it.  
  
"Are you one?" Mitexi murmured, "Are you, Harry?"  
  
"No." Harry said, extremely quietly and in a steady tone of voice. He could tell by her expression that she was startled. Her image suddenly became blurry, then came back into focus.  
  
"I can control my own thoughts." His voice was dead, dispassionate. "I am the owner of my own mind." Mitexi's image flickered. Only the dog stayed steady. "My memories belong to me and me alone."   
  
He moved without thinking, the dog following him with his eyes, as he seemed to glide forward, confronting the flickering image of the girl who was in his mind. She faded in and out like a poorly broadcasted radio signal.   
  
The dog rose and padded to stand beside him. "Mine." He said concentrating on her image, seeing it gone. Mitexi disappeared, and all that remained was the thought form that was Harry and the great dog that contained his consciousness.  
  
  
  
Harry opened his eyes.   
  
  
  
Texi was sitting across from him, slumped back in her chair. Sarven had abandoned his painting and was kneeling beside her, holding her hand as she smiled through the tears that rolled down her face. She opened her eyes and looked at Harry, who felt his strange trance leaving him, aware that his mouth hung open in astonishment over what had happened.  
  
"A good start, Harry." Her voice sounded in his head, tentative at first, then growing stronger. "Forgive me." Then her presence was gone from his thoughts. She turned, accepting Sarven's embrace, trembling against him, unable to voice sound even in the bonds of grief.   
  
He felt that he would. But not right now. He stood, ignoring Sarven's angry look, and turned towards the door, lost in his thoughts. Before he turned he glimpsed the painting and, unthinking, took a few steps towards it.   
  
It was a painting of a woman, dressed in the deepest blue, nearly black where the light did not touch it. She stood silhouetted against the light blue draperies that Harry had glimpsed earlier, a pair of net black gloves held in long fingered, delicate hands.   
  
Her face was slightly square, surrounded by waves of black hair swept up into a knot on the back of her head. Her brows were delicate black slashes above eyes the same pale blue as the draperies she stood against.   
  
Her expression was regal but at the same time slightly sad, as though she tumbled unhappy thoughts behind those silver blue eyes. She moved slightly as Harry watched, quickly, jerkily, then froze again, only her eyes following as Harry stepped even closer.  
  
"His favorite subject." He heard Tainn say from behind him. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the assistant professor padding towards him on his noiseless feet.   
  
"Why does she move like that?" Harry asked, as the woman made a jerking step forward. "It's like she's, I don't know, stuck."  
  
"She is," Tainn told him. "He's never been able to get her quite right. He tries and tries." Tainn's serious mien was completely unfeigned, his feral smile tamed. "She is incomplete, never quite attaining full consciousness. It is a sad thing."   
  
"Who is she?" Harry asked, turning slightly to see Sarven still completely occupied with Texi.   
  
"This woman." Tainn said with a gentle hand on Harry's arm. "Was Sarven's mother." He turned Harry and guided him away.   
  
"Now, it grows late, and I must see to my sister." He looked at Harry closely as they moved towards the door. "Are YOU all right, little Scar?" He asked him.  
  
"I...I am, yes." Harry replied after a moment's thought. What had happened in his mind that night seemed to have been relegated to a small corner of his consciousness where he could look at it if he wished. He did not wish it at the moment.   
  
Tainn nodded slightly, looking at the window, where the position of the stars told that the night was well advanced. Harry was surprised that he could see that. He wondered what his Astronomy examiners would think.   
  
"I should bring my invisibility cloak next time, I think." He said thoughtfully, and Tainn perked up, interested. "It was my dad's." Harry provided.   
  
"I think that's a good idea, little Scar." Tainn told him. "Makes it easier if lessons go overtime." He pushed aside the tapestry that covered the portal wall, and pushed open the painting that guarded it. "Good night." He said, smiling.  
  
Harry climbed through, then turned to Tainn, who paused in the midst of pulling back into the room. "There's something?"  
  
"What was her name?" Harry asked.  
  
Tainn did not have to ask who Harry meant by 'she'. He looked reluctant for a moment, then shook his head and leaned against the side of the entry.   
  
"Her name, was Eloise Chatterhall." He said quietly.  
  
"But isn't Sarven's last name Pensouss?"  
  
Tainn just smiled and waggled his fingers goodnight, pulling himself back into the room and letting the portrait swing shut behind him.  
  
Harry stared at the Dancer for a moment, who tapped her little foot and pointed him down the stairs.   
  
Finally, he turned and made his way to the Gryffindor common room, his exhaustion returning.  
  
PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! REVIEW! .....pretty please?... 


	28. Chapter 28: Hallways

I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is owner by J.K. Rowling. You wouldn't believe me if I said otherwise, anyways.  
  
Chapter 28: Hallways  
  
Harry woke up on Tuesday morning in a terribly nasty mood. He had not slept well the last several nights, his troubles not stemming from dreams, he had had none, or at least none that he remembered, but from anger.  
  
When he had left Mitexi's apartments on Wednesday night the experience had been too fresh for his mind to really register it. But by the time he had undressed and gotten beneath the blankets of his bed, the memories that had been tucked into the corner of his mind began leaking out into his consciousness.   
  
He had been unable to meet her eye the next day, even as he was aware that she was watching him.   
  
How did she dare it? She listened to his retelling of the dreams, then used that to provoke him into...he didn't know what it was. But he found it very difficult to rationalize it into the ends justifying the means.   
  
In the end, he was only able to sleep by pouring his fury into the great dog of his mind's eye. But in the morning, when he awoke with Durry on his pillow, Cord was still absent, haunting the castle, Harry thought, he could be anywhere, his anger returned.   
  
He only met Texi's eye once, on Friday morning when he left to get his broom and spend a few hours on the Quidditch field, and her look of remorse only made him feel worse.   
  
Quidditch trials on Friday afternoon had been just that, a trial of epic proportions. Other than the bright spots of Ron performing excellently, and Ginny making a splendid showing and being happily accepted into a Chaser position, the two beaters that they had gained the previous year performed as though they had not touched a broom in the previous months. The only reason that they even kept their positions was that no one else who had shown up did any better.   
  
The new chaser was slightly better, a third year named Thomas Morrigan. He had good skill with the broom, but trouble controlling the quaffle.   
  
Katie was a little disappointed with the turnout, but fought to keep her optimism. "Well," She had said in an aside to Harry, as the two of them hovered on their brooms far above the field watching the practice below, "At least we have you back, Harry."  
  
"And Ron and Ginny." Harry had pointed out, as Ginny threw the quaffle at the goalposts and it was narrowly saved by Ron, "And you of course. I'm sure you'll whip them into shape."  
  
The red ball was barely retrieved by Thomas, who nearly dropped it as a poorly deflected bludger whizzed past his ear.   
  
"I hope so." She had sighed, diving down to join the fray as Thomas started yelling at the beater who had sent the black ball careening at his head, the beater waving his bat threateningly as he approached.   
  
Harry directed his Firebolt down to where Ginny and Ron were watching Katie mitigate, exchanging glances before Ginny said what they were all thinking.  
  
"Bloody hell." She sighed.  
  
So as Harry trudged through the weekend, enjoying only discussing his Defense essay with Ron and Hermione, struggling through his parchment on timed potions, joined by Neville and with Hermione assisting.   
  
Neville again seemed on the verge of tears at this point of the day and Harry had asked him why he was still in Potions.  
  
"Gran. She wants me to be an Auror." Neville had said despairingly, brandishing his quill and splattering ink on his essay, this sending him nearly into a breakdown. It took the both of them several minutes to calm him down, only succeeding when Hermione produced a small bottle of Vanisher and cleaned up the worst of the spots.   
  
"Thanks, 'ermione," He had sniffled, accepting a handkerchief that Ginny, who was working nearby, passed him.   
  
"What do you want to do, Neville?" Hermione asked him when he had gathered his nerves around him.  
  
"Something with Herbology," Neville had replied, his eyes downcast, "Professor Sprout thinks I have a real talent for it." They assured him that it was true. He smiled, sighing at the same time.   
  
"You don't have to become an Auror." Hermione said.  
  
Neville looked up at her, his eyes pained, "My da was an Auror," Was all he said, and both Hermione and Harry understood. It seemed that Neville's grandmother would never tire of trying to turn her grandson into the son she had lost to the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
Neither of them had any constructive advice to give him, though Hermione summed the problem up fairly well and gave the only suggestion that may help the accident prone boy, if he could get up the mettle to use it.  
  
"Tell her." She told him, bending over her essay a moment later so that his incredulous look went over her head.   
  
Harry groaned as he rubbed his eyes, sitting up and pushing back his bed curtains. His dorm-mates were also awakening, Seamus and Dean quickly moving out of his line of sight. They had been avoiding him, Harry thought with a grim smile. He had the feeling that a lot of people were avoiding him.   
  
So far he had avoided venting his temper on his house members, but if he ran into Malfoy in the halls he could not hold himself responsible for his actions.   
  
He ground his teeth, feeling the familiar rise of temper within him. Now he remembered why he was in a fouler mood this day than the last. Potions.  
  
Briefly he wondered what biting comments Snape would make concerning his absence from his class, even knowing full well why Harry had not been able to go, let alone move.   
  
Harry rumpled his hands through his hair, standing and belting on his robe. He would probably make some comment about him being irresponsible, like all the members of his family, all of whom happened to be dead.   
  
Harry grabbed his curtains in a claw like hand, seeing red flash before his eyes. A moment later he looked up, startled, seeing the fabric tearing away from the rings that had held it up. He released the curtain, watching as the red material sagged onto the floor.   
  
He went over to his nightstand and, after retrieving his wand, repaired it with a flick. The ease with which he accomplished this was also somewhat surprising. He hadn't thought much about it, but his skills were improving more rapidly this year than in any other.   
  
He turned and saw Ron and Neville watching him, Neville with his robe half on and sagging off his shoulder, forgotten.   
  
"A-are you all right, mate?" Ron stammered.   
  
"Yeah," Harry said shortly, "I'm fine. Just...fine."  
  
Charms passed quickly, too quickly for Harry's liking. He noticed that Flitwick kept a very close eye on Malfoy so he didn't have to worry too much. He tried to ignore the crawling feeling between his shoulder blades that occurred every time his back was to the blond boy.   
  
But the class passed without incident and soon Harry found himself in the Great Hall, picking distractedly at his food without much appetite.   
  
He glanced up at the staff table, once again avoiding Texi's eye, and noticed that Tainn was watching him closely. In Care of Magical Creatures the day before Tainn had tried to console Harry in his own manner, and also defended his sister in such a way that Harry had found his anger abating for a while.   
  
It was also difficult to keep his mind on being furious while he was perched on the back of the ugly little Pegasus known as Tilt, clutching onto his long ragged mane and swallowing often as he took his turn riding him around in a large circle then clambering off to find safety on the ground. On the up side, Tilt was a much smoother ride than Buckbeak.  
  
He wondered how Buckbeak was doing as he poked dispiritedly at a piece of pie, crumbling it.   
  
When he looked up again, he saw Professor Lanya slipping into her seat at the head table. She seemed alright. As a matter of fact in Defense class the day before she had been no different than she had the last week, and Harry wondered how good an actress she was.   
  
Lanya also seemed in good spirits, having a discussion with her seatmate, Snape again, who was at least not ignoring her, but seemed to be eyeing her askance as he answered her comments and questions. Harry did notice, however, that her smile seemed a bit forced at times. He also noticed Dumbledore noticing, and caught the old wizard's sober eye.  
  
Lunch was just about over when an owl flew in, an unfamiliar Tawny. This was unusual as for the most part the mail was delivered during the breakfast meal. It winged its way to the head table and dropped down in front of Dumbledore, holding its leg out so that the headmaster could remove the letter tied to its leg.   
  
Dumbledore did so and, after giving the owl a bit of the pastry he had been munching on, opened the thick sheet of folded parchment. He read it briefly, then lowered it with a sigh, tired lines appearing on his face. A few moments later he stood, and worked his way down the table, touching Lanya's shoulder as he passed her.   
  
Harry saw her hands clench on the tablecloth before she stood and followed him out of the hall.   
  
It wasn't much longer before Harry got up and left himself, curious about the contents of that letter, and with half a mind to see if he could find anything out. The thought of the Book of Karsis lingered in his mind like an itch begging to be scratched. He wanted to know if it were really possible, if he could really bring Sirius back to life.   
  
He could feel Ron and Hermione's curious gazes on his back as he pushed his way through the doors and moved quietly down the hall.   
  
He didn't go far when he heard the patter of small shoes behind him and he turned quickly, his hand on his wand, only to relax when he saw Ginny approaching him.  
  
"Did Hermione send you?" He asked testily.  
  
She gave him a sharp scowl. "No, I came after you because you look like you're going to bite off the heads of first year Slytherins...not that that would be a bad thing in some cases." She touched his arm and he jerked it away, "What happened to you, Harry? What happened to the nice guy I went to America with?"  
  
"Reality asserted itself." He growled, walking away from her. "You wouldn't understand."  
  
"Honestly, Harry!" She snapped, trotting after him and grabbing his arm. "Why do you always think I can't understand? How do you KNOW?"  
  
"Because no one can know how I feel!" He yelled at her. "you can't know what it's like..." He turned away, walking quickly.  
  
She caught up with him again, taking hold of his hand and clasping it tightly as she matched pace. He looked down in surprise. Why wouldn't she leave him alone? "What haven't you told me, Harry? It has something to do with what you said at Remus' house?"  
  
"If I live..." He almost whispered, squeezing her hand. He swallowed heavily. "I don't think I can tell you, Ginny." He murmured, turning his head slightly to look into her warm brown eyes.   
  
"Do you think I can't keep a secret?" She asked him, her eyes sparking for a moment.  
  
"It's... not that, Tonic." He told her, stopping her and putting his hand on her shoulder, brushing away a strand of red hair that clung to the collar of her robes. "It could be dangerous for you to know."  
  
She bit her lip, her eyes wide and questioning in her lightly freckled face. "I don't want you to get hurt." He continued. "But...I don't want to lose you either."  
  
"So don't push us away, Harry. That would hurt more than you think." She told him quietly, her eyes still on his face.   
  
"Not the kind of hurt I'm talking about." He said shortly, "You could be killed just for being near me. But I realized, that even if you...guys stopped caring for me, I would never stop caring for you...all. He would find that out, he would hurt you." He touched her cheek.   
  
"Harry..." she said, looking down at their joined hands. It took her a moment before she could continue. "Whatever happens, don't make us lose you."  
  
"I'll try not to," he murmured, leaning down as she turned her face up towards his.   
  
Just as their lips were about to meet, there came the crash of a slamming door and the two of them jumped, spinning towards the noise. It was coming from the adjoining chamber, and Harry could hear the tapping of hurried footsteps on the stones.  
  
He put his hand to his lips to signal Ginny to silence, and crept towards the door leading to the next hall. He eased it open and peered out, seeing, unexpectedly, Professor Lanya, her traveling cloak fastened crookedly, and her face horribly angry. He felt Ginny lean over beside him, and had to move so that she could see as well.   
  
The two of them watched, and nearly fell over when another person entered the hall, sweeping quickly after her.   
  
"Professor Lanya!" Snape nearly roared. "You cannot leave like this!"  
  
She spun abruptly on her heel, facing the Potions master, whose robes floated around him as he approached, regarding her with a sneer curling his lips.  
  
"You think you can just flout your responsibilities in order to pursue a vendetta?" He snarled at her.   
  
"This shouldn't have happened," She snarled back, glaring at him, "She was well protected, I made sure of that!"  
  
"Insufficient." Snape told her smoothly. "You shouldn't have thought your piddling protections would guard her from the Dark Lord. He is not one to be underestimated." He stepped closer to her, seeming to loom, even though she was only slightly shorter, topping him with her tall, pointed hat. "Your protections were obviously inadequate. One must wonder why you didn't invoke the Fidelus Charm."  
  
She seemed to shrink within herself. "If it had been possible, you know I would've been doing it. But it was not possible, and my aunt trusted no one else as she did I." She sounded a bit uncertain as she said this, as though she may have been wrong.   
  
"Indeed." He remarked ruminatively, "Then who, do you think..."  
  
She cut him off with a sharp gesture, "It does no good to speculate. The thing is done, out of my control."  
  
"Yes," He remarked, "So you think you should try and return some measure of control, neglecting and abandoning the duties you signed on for here." He stepped even closer to her, and Harry could see her hand hovering close to her wand.   
  
"That's not the reason!" She protested. She quickly stepped back a few paces, bringing her wand up to point at him. "And you will not stop me."  
  
"Drawing on an unarmed man?" He asked mildly. "Would she be proud of you, would this be what she wanted you to do?"  
  
Lanya was silent her purple eyes wide and shining with tears, but she slowly dropped her arm, her wand sliding from her fingers to clatter on the floor. "No..." She said finally. "So what do I do, now?" she asked him brokenly. "Severus." She whispered, taking a few steps forward.   
  
Harry was hard pressed to tell, later, who was more shocked at what happened next, he and Ginny, or professor Snape himself. Lanya took a final step and pressed her forehead against the professor's chest, her hands curling in his robes, her body shuddering with uncontrollable tears.   
  
Snape's expression would have been comical if it were not compounded with so much grief. His eyes widened, his shoulders stiffened, he half raised his hand, as though to rest it on her back, then brought it slowly back down to his side.   
  
"She was all I had. What do I do now?" She whispered again.   
  
"First, you desist blubbering on the front on my robes." He said, even his voice stiff. "Then you go on as you must, and not let it consume you." This last was said with a touch of bitterness that did not go unnoticed.  
  
Lanya lifted her face, looking at him piercingly. She stepped back, a little self-consciously, and unfastened her crooked robe, taking it carefully over her arm, her attention ostensibly completely focused on the action. Then she looked back up at him and smiled, though her eyes were very red and her face still wet.  
  
She murmured something under her breath, rather ruefully, then raised her voice. "As I am staying, Severus. What do you say about starting a Dueling Club?" Then she led him away, as he looked almost approving.   
  
When they had gone, Harry and Ginny straightened, having been too nervous about being discovered listening to a private conversation to risk moving much. They looked at each other, speechless.   
  
Finally, as they were about to part ways, Ginny broke the silence. "I would've thought he wanted to get rid of her, then he could get the job himself."   
  
Harry hesitated, "Sometimes, I think there's more to Snape then he lets on." He finally said. "Though he's still a slimy git at heart."  
  
"Certainly," She laughed in agreement, turning away. "Oh, and, Harry?"  
  
"Yes?" He asked, seeing her look at him over her shoulder.   
  
"You really should forgive Texi for whatever happened." She told his seriously. "She loves you just as much as we all do."  
  
Somehow, Ginny's words struck home where no one else's had. He nodded, and headed off to Potions, while Ginny headed in the other direction.   
  
Please, please, please review. 


	29. Chapter 29: Hair

I do not own Harry Potter, I only own my original characters and the story.   
  
Chapter 29: Hair  
  
Harry glanced around the Potions classroom as he took his seat next to Ron. It looked unchanged, though, as usual, Snape had apparently acquired a few more slimy things to adorn the shelves lining his room. The group in NEWT level Potions was rather small, and Harry noted that Malfoy was once again lacking his lackeys, sitting at his table with a sullen look on his face.   
  
Harry saw Malfoy look up when Snape made his normal sweeping entrance, and the look on his face was resentful, obviously resenting his Head of House for punishing him for his indiscretion against the Potter boy.   
  
Snape's look swept over the room, and, as Harry had somehow known it would, came to rest on him. He heaved a small sigh, watching as the warning signs developed on Snape's face with almost clinical detachment.  
  
First, his eyes would narrow, yes, there they go. His mouth would thin then quirk up in a disdainful smirk. Harry noted this as well. He wondered if Snape realized his warning signals were so easily read. Okay, now he would pull his cloak around himself regally, and his prominent nostrils will flare.  
  
'He's getting ready,' Harry thought in resignation. He could almost see the process of formulating insults flashing behind Snape unfathomable eyes. 'Five, four, three...two...one...' Harry muttered under his breath.  
  
"And if it isn't Mr. Potter." Snape sneered, sweeping around to stand in front of his desk. "So KIND of you to join us today, Mr. Potter. I do hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience for you." Harry noted the startled looks of the few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who, unlike the rest of them, had not had the benefit of experiencing Snape's venom towards Harry before.   
  
"It would seem, Mr. Potter, that you have chosen the wrong seat." He swept his gaze across the room, until an ugly smile passed over his face. Ron gave Harry a horrified look.  
  
"Mr. Mason." He nearly purred, and the boy with the heavy brown hair from DADA jerked his gaze up to their professor. "I do think that you and Potter will benefit from each other's experience." He darted a dark look at Ron. "You will switch seats with Mr. Weasley. In an advanced class like this, the Houses should mix, don't you think?" This was very much not a question.  
  
Ron obviously didn't think so. He stared at the person who would be his partner with budding horror. It was none other than Malfoy. Malfoy, in turn, was staring at Professor Snape in disbelief. The red-headed young man gathered up his books, and, with a last desperate look at Harry, went to Malfoy's table, giving Gradly a hard stare for his apologetic shrug as they passed.  
  
Gradly, with another apologetic shrug at Harry, sat down and pulled out a battered notebook, his quill scratching at whatever it was he had been interrupted from. A moment later he shut the notebook with a displeased shake of his head.   
  
Snape had resumed his place at the front of the class, glancing at the timepiece on his desk. "In approximately 30 seconds, those of you who were successful in the experiment during the last class will notice the results." He looked at Harry with his face pinched, "Mr. Potter. Tell me what the results of this particular potion," He waved his wand at the board and a list of ingredients and their preparation appeared, "should be." He seemed to be very intent on receiving a wrong answer.  
  
Harry was grateful for his hours of studying with Hermione. "It should cause a change in hair color, Sir."   
  
"What color, Potter?" Harry saw him flick his gaze to Hermione with a small curl of his lip.  
  
Harry hesitated, staring intently at the board. He couldn't remember discussing that. The mixture of gillyflower with hazel wood bark would make a dark blue, but then the seawater could, with the other two, make it become purple. But then there was... "Orange, Sir. The presence of tumeric would negate the blue tones of the results, though the potion itself would be blue."  
  
Snape, looking disappointed that Harry had gotten the right answer, nodded. He looked at the timepiece again. "And...now."   
  
Suddenly, several of the students, including Hermione, gained orange hair, the color starting at the roots, then draining down to the tips of their hair like water. A few seconds later, Gradly's did. "The timing on your potion is off, Mr. Mason. You added too much toad spleen."   
  
Gradly nodded blandly, opening his notebook and making a few more marks on the page. Harry noted that only half the room had gained orange hair, but he wasn't sure if Ron's counted or not. His hair might have looked a little lighter than its usual color, but it was difficult to tell. Several other sported different shades, red, usually, or yellow.   
  
Snape pointed each of these out, asking Harry to identify why their potions had not worked as planned, sneering when Harry could not answer most times.   
  
It was only when they were halfway through the lesson the Neville's new hair color made its appearance. No matter how hard Harry thought, he could not have identified where the clumsy boy had gone wrong. Besides his hair changing an hour after it should have, it also turned a horrid shade of pea green while growing to touch his shoulders, then past his shoulders.   
  
Neville yelped as he grabbed at the growing locks just before they landed in the seething mixture he and a Ravenclaw girl were working on. Then Snape was there, the bottle in his hand dripping a mixture on Neville's head. The hair turned back to its normal color, and stopped growing, leaving Neville with hair halfway down his back and a frightened expression.   
  
"I could...FEEL it growing." He said in a strangled voice. Snape stood over him, his face dreadful in its impassiveness. He said something in a voice meant only for Neville's ears, and fought-against tears welled in the boys eyes. Then Snape walked away, while the girl Neville was working with wordlessly reached in her bag and handed Neville a piece of string with which to bind his hair back as they continued working.  
  
"Thought he'd explode then," Gradly murmured quietly to Harry.  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, liking the Slytherin despite himself. Gradly was quiet and methodical in all he did, from preparing and measuring the potion ingredients, to his conversation. He handed the other boy the powdered beetle legs, and watched as he carefully slipped the powder in, while Harry stirred.  
  
By the time they reached the end of class, their potion was correct in color and composition, and Harry was wondering why Snape had such a nasty look on his face when he assigned them to each other. Gradly was obviously capable. He decided to bring it up.  
  
"Er...Gradly?" He asked the boy. Gradly looked at him curiously, pushing his hair out of where it had stubbornly fallen across his eyes again. "Do you know why Snape had that odd look on his face when he assigned us together?"  
  
Gradly made a face, "Oh, that." He stirred five more times, carefully, before switching direction. "He finds me strange, I think." He shrugged. "He's my head of house, but I don't think he quite understands how I came to be there." He glanced at Harry from beneath his forelock. "I don't really understand why he did what he did. I finally got my chance to really talk to Draco..." He shook his orange tinted head. "I guess he doesn't want me meddling."  
  
"Meddling?"  
  
"I've said too much." Gradly murmured half to himself.  
  
Harry was just about to resume his questions when Snape stood again at the front of his class, this occasioning, as always, silence. "All of you," He said, "Except Potter, and Longbottom, will take your antidotes now." He indicated the timepiece on his desk with a sweeping gesture. "This is set to the same time as the clock in the Great Hall. At Six o'clock exactly, as the dinner hour is winding down, your hair, if the potion is brewed correctly, will return to normal. I will be watching from the head table. For your homework, you will write a paper on the antidote, ten inches. And also," This with a look at Neville that made him shrink back, "You will include at least a paragraph on why Mr. Longbottom's potion went so drastically wrong. Class dismissed."  
  
  
  
Hermione was examining Neville's hair when Harry nodded goodbye to Gradly, who ignored Ron's hard look while nodding back.  
  
"Was it terrible?" Ron asked, scowling, "Malfoy tried to deliberately trip my potion up several times. He was probably thinking he could always whine to Snape that it was my fault."  
  
"Actually," Harry hedged, "Gradly was a good partner."  
  
"A Slytherin?"   
  
"Yeah, he was a Slytherin, but he's not much like Malfoy otherwise. Now that I think about it, he mainly ignored Malfoy through the years."  
  
"I hardly recognized him," Hermione asserted, releasing Neville's hair. "I think he usually sat in the back, very quiet."   
  
Harry gave Neville a long look. "You know, it suits you."  
  
Neville flushed, pleased despite himself. "Do you really think so?" He somewhat self-consciously, shaking his dark hair back and re-tying it.   
  
Hermione nodded, "It IS quite nice. Maybe you should try it out for a while, see how you like it before you decide to get it cut."  
  
"I guess I will, at least until the Christmas holidays." Neville nodded.  
  
"Why then?" Ron asked him as they moved towards their common room to put their books away before dinner.  
  
"Gran may not like it. In fact, I'm fairly certain she won't." Neville said tiredly.   
  
Hermione exchanged glances with Harry and Ron. "Haven't you ever done anything to defy her?" She asked.  
  
"Well," Neville hedged, and Harry suddenly remembered the gum wrapper from his mother that Neville hid in his pocket. "It's hard to, you see. She raised me after-after it happened, and she's done so much for me." He shook his head mournfully. "I guess I feel I owe it to her to try and do what she wants for me."  
  
Harry touched Hermione's arm when she made to answer that, shaking his head when she looked at him questioningly. He turned to Neville, "I think, what she'd ultimately want, is for you to be happy, and to be your own person."  
  
"I guess you're right, Harry." Neville said, brightening slightly. He looked at Hermione as they climbed the last staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room. She had her arm tucked in Ron's and was looking at Harry with a speculative gleam in her eyes. She caught Neville's glance.  
  
"Yes?" She asked curiously.  
  
"How do you tend long hair?" He asked a bit sheepishly.   
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh.  
  
They sat in their usual places at the dinner table, Hermione between Harry and Ginny. Hermione had gotten quite a few looks when she entered the Great Hall beside Ron. Lavender and Parvati had exchanged glances, then both began giggling.   
  
"What is it?" Hermione asked them irritably, tucking her wild orange hair behind her ears.   
  
"Well, we knew you liked Ron." Lavender started.  
  
"But if you were trying to match you should have made your hair a bit more red." Parvati simpered. Hermione stared at her, a dark blush rising in her cheeks.  
  
"Of course, the color you're turning right now is dead on." Lavender giggled.   
  
"It's for Potions." Hermione muttered, turning her attention to her plate. "It will change back at six o'clock."  
  
They were, however, highly complimentary about Neville's new hairstyle, obviously confusing as well as pleasing to the accident prone boy. He had bound it back again with a length of leather thong, returning the tie that he had borrowed to the Ravenclaw girl, Melanie was her name, Neville told them.   
  
"You should try braiding it," Lavender suggested.  
  
"I don't know," Parvati interjected, oblivious to the embarrassed look Neville was slanting her, "His hair looks nice as it is." She turned to Neville, "What did you use anyway?"  
  
"It was an accident." He mumbled. "I didn't..."  
  
"Well, there are charms you can use," Lavender interrupted, "But they don't seem to work as nicely, I tried one once and it came out all scraggly." They continued their conversation, moving on to hair care products.   
  
Harry noticed Neville listening closely. He hoped the young man would keep his new hairstyle, if only for a measure of showing independence. Hair, and then maybe career of choice, though it would be a great leap from one to the other.   
  
He wondered momentarily what had prompted him to say what he did to Neville, but a moment later he put it form his mind, glancing at the clock and noting that it was nearly six.   
  
Harry shifted his gaze to the head table, seeing Snape watching his students closely. He looked away from him, then caught the eyes of Mitexi, who was still looking rather sorry as she gazed at the black haired young man. Her green eyed stare was almost painful.   
  
Harry hesitated a second, then smiled at her, a bit wanly, but still a smile. Her answering change in expression was radiant, her green eyes glowing happily.   
  
"Thank you, Harry." Her voice sounded in his head, very quietly.   
  
Harry moved his eyes away from her, almost uncomfortable at the gratefulness implicit in her tone. His gaze shifted to Tainn, who looked at his sister, then at Harry, nodding with a quick quirk upwards of the corners of his mouth before turning to an animated conversation he was having with Hagrid. Harry caught the words 'blast-ended skrewts' and shuddered, though Tainn seemed quite fascinated.  
  
Then it was six o'clock, and Harry caught many exclamations of surprise around the room as the orange color drained from all the Potion student's hair.   
  
Harry heard another cry, this one rather dismayed, and quite close by. He turned quickly to his seatmates. Hermione was holding out a lock of her curly hair and eying it with dawning horror. It was no longer orange, that was certain. Instead, her hair had turned a bright blond. It was actually rather becoming, but Hermione didn't think so.  
  
She summed up her feeling on the matter very succinctly. "I did the potion...WRONG." She said in a disbelieving tone. "I can't believe this," She wailed, rummaging frantically through her ever-present bag for her potions notebook.   
  
Ron nudged her and whispered her name, jerking his chin in the direction of the head table. Snape was staring at the Gryffindor table, more specifically, at Hermione.   
  
As they watched, he bent his head and made a mark in his book.   
  
"A zero, I KNOW he gave me a zero," Hermione whimpered, close to tears. Ron put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.   
  
But the most disturbing thing about Snape at this moment, was not the grade he was likely giving Hermione, but the fact that Snape was smiling, a vindicated, beatific smile.   
  
Please, please, please review! 


	30. Chapter 30: Late Night

I do not own Harry Potter, or his magical world. The only things that belong to this one are her original characters and the story.  
  
Chapter 30: Late Nights  
  
That week's Occlumency session was with Snape, and Harry, while still not performing quite up to Snape's standards, did, with the help of his receiver, manage to fare better. At the end of the lesson, after Snape had grudgingly conceded that the young man might have it in him to actually learn Occlumency, he found that, for once, his scar did not hurt. That, in itself, was a small victory.   
  
When he got back to the common room that night, most of the students had already gone to sleep, but for Ron and Ginny. Hermione, after several attempts at brewing a remedy to her problem in their usual potion brewing place of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, had finally succeeded, and her hair was again its usual mousy brown. However, a couple of sleep deprived nights had sent her to her rooms early for some much needed rest.  
  
One of the reasons, perhaps, that she had been so diligent in restoring it to its original color was the fact that Ron had really taken to the blond version of Hermione. Harry had noticed several times that he seemed transfixed by the golden curls that coiled around Hermione's face. He had suggested to her, timidly, that first night when she was frantically poring over her potions book, that she might perhaps consider keeping it, for a while, mind, and she may grow to like it. Then he added that HE liked it. She had looked startled, pleased, then, recovering, had fixed him with a look that would have scalded the hair off of a cat. Harry was mightily glad that he had not been the recipient of that particular stare, and the lecture that had followed it.   
  
"All right, Harry?" Ron asked as he climbed in the portrait hole. He sounded slightly concerned, something he tried to mask with his casual tone.   
  
"I'm fine, Ron." Harry assured him. The fact was he was feeling he should follow Hermione's lead and retreat up to his comfortable bed. Snape's lessons were quite draining, whether it be in potions or otherwise. "I think I'm going to bed." He nodded at them, making his way to the staircase, Ginny's eyes on him were making him nervous.   
  
"Harry!" Ron said hurriedly, "Before you go, I think you should look at this." Harry turned around and saw that he and Ginny had been poring over a large sheet of parchment.   
  
Harry retraced his steps to where they were sitting, taking the parchment and glancing once at their expectant faces before turning his attention to what it said.   
  
It read in a large, flowing script. 'For Students in their Third Year or Above.' Then in smaller letters it went on. 'Friday Evening, at seven o'clock in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, will be the First Meeting of the DEFENSE ASSOCIATION, sponsored by Professor L. C. Lanya.'   
  
He looked at the two of them. "This is the first I've heard of it," He said with a raised eyebrow.   
  
"She asked us to show it to you before she posted it, Harry." Ginny provided.   
  
"Oh," He nodded, mollified, turning his attention back to the parchment.   
  
In even smaller print. 'The DA is an Intensive Advance into the world of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Its Intention, through hard work and discipline, to prepare students for real life, often dangerous, situations. Emphasis will be in hexes, defense, stealth, and combat situations.' And finally, 'It is not recommended that students join this club lightly.'   
  
"It looks like this will work." Harry said after mulling it over for a moment. Beneath all the text was Professor Lanya's signature in swooping letters. Then in small print below it were the words, 'Club President' and a blank space. He looked at Ron curiously.   
  
"She'd like you to sign the copies," Ron told him, indicating three other identical notices sitting on the table.  
  
Harry nodded slightly. "I'll have to go get a quill," He said tiredly. Ginny wordlessly handed him hers, and a small blue bottle of ink. He thanked her, ignoring the tingle in his fingers where they had touched. He scribbled his name four times, then with a yawn and a sleepy goodnight, he left the two Weasleys pinning the notice to the bulletin board, discussing it in low voices with Ron shaking his head and Ginny shrugging.   
  
He let himself be briefly curious over what they were discussing, probably the Slytherins, he thought as he stifled a tired yawn. He wondered that he didn't have the energy to worry himself. But then, he didn't really think that many, if any at all, would like to join a club run by Harry Potter. The ones that didn't ignore him outright, or try to make his life harder, seemed cautious about exchanging even a few words with him. He wondered, sometimes, about that.   
  
Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws seemed to interact fairly often with each other and with the Gryffindors, forming friendships and groups for study and play, though not as much as within their own houses, of course. But the Slytherins, they seemed so isolated. Harry had known only one or two in his own year who even had people they talked to outside their own house. It seemed it wasn't quite right... He shook his head. No, he really was too tired, his mind was wandering off into nonsensical thoughts.   
  
He stumbled into his room, finding Neville already asleep, judging by the soft snores emerging from the gaps in his bedcurtains. Dean and Seamus were playing a game of exploding snap in the middle of Dean's bed. Seamus looked up as Harry entered and pursed his lips slightly.   
  
"Join us Harry?" He asked hesitantly. He was trying, Harry thought, to get past what the events the end of the last school year had done to all of them. He should try, too, he thought. But he was just too tired.  
  
He covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned once again, so perhaps they knew what his answer would be before he made it, begging off in order to go to sleep. Considering how many fewer classes he had started it out taking, it seemed had had remarkably less time for things such as sleep so far this year. But keeping busy was good, it left him little time to think about that he would rather not think on.   
  
"Okay, maybe some other time," Dean told him, smiling hesitantly. Harry grinned at him, wondering if it looked real, it felt fake.   
  
He quickly abandoned it as he changed into his pajamas, his eyes hooded slightly as he pulled back his covers. He was about to flop into bed when he caught a bright flash of startled yellow eyes looking up at him, and caught himself on his forearms just in time to avoid falling on Durry. He pulled back slightly, letting his legs fold so he was on his knees at the side of the bed, laying his head close to his little chronogryffon. He sighed slightly, petting the creature's head as Durry started purring. "I've got to be more careful, eh?" He said softly, meeting yellow eyes with green. "Wouldn't want to squish you, little guy." Durry purred louder, a contented blue.   
  
Harry let his eyes droop closed, thinking vaguely that he really should move Durry and get into bed.   
  
"Harry...must..." a disjointed voice murmured in his ear. "Must..."  
  
Harry mumbled sleepily.  
  
"You must, Harry."   
  
"What?" He whispered, "I must what?"  
  
It was dark, very dark, so dark that he was sure he was still staring at the inside of his eyelids. Then a small light flickered and bloomed in that darkness, like a tiny flame. He stared at it, his eyes squinted half shut, then stood, walking towards that flickering light. It grew brighter as he approached, taking on a green cast and spreading into a wide doorway. Walking through he found himself in a place he did not recognize. He turned, taking everything in.  
  
It was outside, that he knew, the sun shining had made that small light he had followed. It seemed to be a grotto of some sort, set into a small canyon. The walls were mossy, and a small spring welled up in a circular depression in the very center. And in the center of that spring was a low stone plinth, the top had a small square depression in it. Like it had been made to hold something, only now, that something was gone. He walked closer, stepping into the spring, feeling the cool water bubbling around his bare feet.   
  
Harry looked down at himself and saw he was wearing some sort of rough brown robes, draped and fastened with a golden pin that looked like twisting branches on his right shoulder. Strange. Who wore robes like these, he wondered. He certainly didn't.  
  
Putting that aside, he returned to his examination of the polished stone pedestal. There were runes inscribed around the square depression in the middle. Hermione may have recognized them, to him they looked like the half-formed scribbles of a child just learning his letters. He reached out and touched one, and it glowed. First it, then the others, one by one, shifting and changing, their glow waning, then expanding, until the whole grotto burst with their light.   
  
Harry tried to step back, fearful, but found his feet planted in place, as though the water had turned solid around his ankles. Just as he found this out, the light coalesced and seemed to turn solid on the other side of the plinth. He focused on it, fearful, his hand feeling for the wand he did not have.   
  
From the solid light the form of a very old man appeared, his robes nearly a copy of Harry's own. His face was as wrinkled as a dried apple, his skin the color of the bark of an oak tree. His hair was long and smoky gray, as was his beard and his bushy eyebrows. His eyes were closed. Even so, he seemed formidable. Harry redoubled his efforts to free his feet.   
  
When he looked up again, the old man was looking at him, and in his pale washed-out violet eyes there showed a power that Harry nearly quailed before. Here was a wizard who matched Dumbledore for command and presence. Harry found himself trembling, but forced his struggles into stillness, breathing deeply, meeting those eyes.   
  
They demanded that he not look away, and it seemed that, deeper within that wash of violet, there was a whole world waiting, of knowledge, of reality, he couldn't tell. But it seemed he could fall into them and be lost forever.  
  
"You do not know." The old man said in a voice as profound as the ocean. He cupped his hands over the depression, and an image appeared. "How you came to be here." It was a book. Harry had seen it before, on his own lap, in the slender hands of a woman. "You were chosen by matters beyond your control." The book lifted, spinning in the air slowly, the runes on the cover glowing like embers. "The heart makes us do strange things, sometimes. It made me do this." The book flew at Harry, and snapped to a stop inches before his eyes. "It made her do what she did." Harry lifted his hands to take it, and it melted away like sand. "Will it make you do what you mustn't? Will it make you, do what you must do?"   
  
Harry looked back into those depthless eyes, eyes like the infinity of space. "What? What do you mean? What must I do? Why won't any of you be clearer!?"  
  
"Clarity, may be found or given." The man said, his oak-bark face impassive. "We cannot be clearer. There are constraints." The man, and the light faded. "You must do what she cannot." Then, almost to himself. "Would that I was not mistaken. May I not be mistaken." Then, like the book had, he melted into the burbling spring. The light dimmed, and then, the grotto was as he had first seen it, cool and green.   
  
A shadow cast itself across the plinth. Harry turned, and saw Sirius watching him, his eyes sober. "You must do what she cannot, Harry." Then he turned and disappeared through the portal that Harry had entered through, but changed, now with a rippling veil across it.   
  
Harry buried his face in his hands. "Sirius," He mumbled brokenly, "Why?"  
  
"You...must..." Harry heard a disjointed voice. "Harry..."   
  
Harry jerked awake. "What did you say?" Harry demanded. And Ron jumped back.  
  
Ron gulped, and Harry saw Seamus and Dean standing behind him, watching him worriedly. "I said, mate, that you really must get into bed. You'll hurt in the morning if you sleep like that."  
  
Harry realized that his knees hurt. He was still kneeling where he had ended up, at the side of the bed, with Durry near his head. Durry... Harry got up quickly, looking at the chrono.  
  
Durry chittered weakly at him, his eyes dull, his fur and wings a dull sooty gray. Harry quickly scooped him up and held him against his chest. "Oh, Merlin! Durry, I'm so sorry!"  
  
His roommates blinked at him in confusion, but he barely noticed. He was so angry at himself that he could hardly see straight. He had forgotten to use the receiver, and with his Occlumency practice his mind had been more open than before. It had allowed him to dream deeply, seemingly into realms that he had never been in before. Durry had turned his dreams, true, otherwise he would have dreamed of Voldemort, but he was so young, and so small. It must have taken all his strength.  
  
"Hagrid!" Harry nearly shouted. "I have to take him to Hagrid."  
  
"You can't, Harry." Seamus protested. "It's the middle of the night, and it's not safe outside, these days." He immediately looked as though he were sorry he had said it. Harry would have known all too well without a reminder.  
  
"Don't you think he might be better with just a bit of rest?" Dean asked.  
  
"He looks bad, Dean." Ron said softly. "Harry's right." He set himself. "But Seamus is right, too."  
  
Harry gave him a dark glare. "The point, Ron?"  
  
"I mean, maybe we should ask Tai...er...Professor Tainn to look at him. Since he's in the castle, right? And he IS a Care of Magical Creatures professor."  
  
"Right. Here, take him." Harry carefully handed Durry to Dean, who was closest. Dean took him, cradling the small creature in his hands. He seemed to be examining him closely, and Harry imagined it may have been the first time Dean had seen Durry close up. He turned and quickly rummaged in his trunk, finally coming up with his invisibility cloak. He hung it over his arm, and made to take Durry, but other hands were there before him.  
  
"I'll carry him for you, Harry." Neville said quietly, he must have woken up when Harry started shouting. "You look as though you're going to fall over."  
  
The boy looked rumpled, his long hair tangled on his shoulders, but his hands were careful and steady on the chronogryffon. Harry stared at him a long moment, then glanced at Ron, who shrugged and nodded with a half smile. Well, if Neville wanted to go wandering through the halls with him, he supposed that it was a good sign. "Okay, Neville. Let's go."  
  
The halls were so quiet that even their breathing under the invisibility cloak sounded like thunder to Harry's ears. It seemed so much further this time to get to the Stepenwolv resident's apartments. Neville walked small beside him, both of them keeping an ear and an eye out for Filch and Mrs. Norris.   
  
Finally the painting of the dancer appeared before them. She was reposing in a chaise lounge when Harry whispered the password. Then she woke up in surprise, wild-haired for a moment before she swung out of sight.   
  
Harry hadn't expected anyone to be up, and was therefore surprised when his and Neville's invisible selves were facing a roomful of wizards, all facing the doorway, their wands held at ready, pointing at him. He hurriedly tossed back his cloak, and all of them relaxed but one.   
  
Harry muttered an oath. Sarven. The young man was staring at him with a look of shocked dismay. No, not at him, at Neville, who squeaked and took a few steps back, though his grip on Durry remained gentle.   
  
Harry had been too tired, too out of sorts, to think of much besides getting care for his chronogryffon. And now he had revealed Sarven to Neville, who was perhaps not one of the best people to know that the young Snape look-alike was in the castle.   
  
What was done, was done, though. "Neville." He said sharply. And the boy jumped, tearing his gaze away from Sarven. The slightly pudgy boy nodded, gulping. Harry turned his attention back to the gathering. "I'm sorry to barge in like this, but, Tainn?" The feral looking young man, perhaps hearing the urgency in Harry's voice, came forward quickly. "It's Durry...I had a dream, and he..."  
  
Mitexi separated herself from the crowd and joined her brother. Neville handed them the chronogryffon. Tainn looked him over, muttering. She locked eyes with him for a moment. "Yes, I see." Tainn muttered. "Excuse us a moment, Harry." Then he turned and vanished though one of the doorways, Texi on his heels. That left Harry facing the rest of the group, which included Sarven, who had moved from dismay to something approaching consternation.   
  
Most of the others he had not seen since they had taken leave of each other at the Plymouth port. There was slim Colum, his pale hair falling smoothly to his shoulders. And his slightly stouter brother Harvan, his shorter dark blond hair looking slightly windblown. Both had slight smudges of soot on their robes. Valhalla was sitting cross-legged on one of the couches, and beside her was the Auror Kingsley, whom Harry had not seen in quite a while, not since the Ministry, his bald head glinting in the firelight.   
  
They were all staring at him and Neville, who looked as though he were wishing he were anywhere else but there. Harry assumed a small smile, trying to avoid Sarven's dark gaze.   
  
"Harry," Neville tugged at the sleeve of his bathrobe. "That bloke, he looks just like Snape." He whispered.  
  
Harry was saved from having to make some sort of comment when Kingsley approached him. "Harry, it's good to see you. You too, Neville." He clapped the young boy on the shoulder, "Like the new hairstyle," He commented with a grin, rubbing his hand over his own bare pate. He kept his hand on Neville's shoulder, turning, "Everyone, this is Neville Longbottom. I believe you were told about him."  
  
Neville flushed beet red, and was obviously wondering what was said about him. Valhalla was the first to fall in. "Neville, pleased to meet you. I'm Valhalla. Very handsome fellow," she grinned, then she produced a comb from somewhere under her robes. Why on earth would she have a comb under her robes, Harry thought. "Can I braid your hair?" She asked.  
  
Neville stared at her as though she were a loony, but he let her lead him to a hassock and settle him on it. "If you want to avoid tangles you should do this every night." Harry heard her advising him as she started pulling the comb through, working gently at the tangles.   
  
Neville out of the way, the rest of them gathered around Harry. "Good to see you again, Harry." Harvan said, "Though this is quite unexpected." Harry had always liked this twin better than his brother, he was earthier somehow. "And I doubt the wisdom of bringing your friend here."  
  
"I wasn't thinking." Harry mumbled in embarrassment. "I was so tired, and worried." He realized he was babbling excuses and shut himself up.   
  
Sarven was uncomfortably silent. Harry glanced at him. "I apologize. But Neville, he won't say anything if I ask him not to."  
  
"He seemed afraid of me." Sarven said suddenly, and even from where he was sitting Neville started slightly at the sound of his voice. "You see? I'm not sure what to think of that." He lowered his voice.   
  
Harry felt it prudent not to tell him about Neville's boggart.   
  
"So, what are you all doing here tonight?" He asked, and suddenly they all became very quiet. "I mean...if it's something you can't talk about, I understand." He felt his temper flare slightly, and hastily crushed it.  
  
Colum glanced at the doorway that Texi and Tainn had disappeared through, then looked around at the other surrounding Harry. It took a moment, but Harry saw a small nod from Harvan. "We have meetings weekly, those of us who are able to come," the man said. "We like to keep in constant contact, and since Texi is here." He coughed, and Harry, confused, wondered why his brother had elbowed him. Maybe he had imagined it, though.   
  
"Anyway," Colum continued, "We were waiting for Genner to arrive. He was supposed to be here an hour ago, but was probably delayed, his is a delicate job." He spoke carefully. "Tric was here a while ago, but she left to relieve him." His brother nodded. They didn't seem worried that Genner was delayed, though Harry would have been, and was a bit. Genner was a kind fellow, and he liked him.  
  
A moment later there was a slight disturbance at the fireplace, and Neville yelped. He had jumped again, apparently, and had had his hair pulled. Genner emerged, his tousled light brown hair sooty, seeing wands pointed at him he grinned, holding up his hands. "Don't shoot. I'm unarmed."  
  
They laughed, putting their wands away, and Harry chuckled as well, after a moment. Neville looked slightly confused, but then, he hadn't had much, if any exposure to muggle movies. He was impressed, though, at all of their quick reflexes, he hadn't even seen any of them drawing their wands.  
  
Genner spared a quick look for Valhalla, who had busied herself with Neville's hair again. Harry doubted Neville would ever be able to duplicate the intricate braid she was weaving. "She does that to Tainn and Colum, too." He told the boy lightly. "I'm Genner." He said , sticking out his hand.  
  
"N-neville Longbottom." Neville took it. Genner looked speculative at the name, then turned to the rest of them.   
  
"Sorry it took me so long, Tric wanted to spend a little time with me before I left." He laughed, almost in a surprised way, blushing. "I guess she insisted."  
  
Valhalla burst out in a silver laugh, with Colum and Harvan right behind her. "About time." Colum muttered when he caught his breath. Kingsley raised one eyebrow questioningly, but Harry recalled a comment Texi had made about the two of them what seemed like a long time ago now. '...she stayed because of Genner. She'll get him around to her way of thinking one of these days.' He guessed today must have been the day.  
  
Genner blushed again. Then he leapt forward and caught Colum in a headlock, ruffling his hair. "Hey, stoppit! Stoppit!!" Colum protested, trying to punch him. Genner gave him one last rub on the head, then released him with a satisfied look on his face. Colum sullenly began putting his hair to rights again.  
  
"Harry," Genner said, turning to the dark haired boy, "Good to see you again." They shook hands as well. "I had to pull myself out of there, I admit, but it's worth it, and it's my time to meet with Texi." He grimaced slightly. "I think we could do without it, myself, but she insists."  
  
Texi again. It seemed like she was central to this group, but as far as he knew she had never left the castle grounds. "Why do you meet with her?"  
  
"Oh, you don't know?" Genner looked surprised, then glanced at Valhalla. She shook her head ever so slightly. "Not important, we just keep in touch." He said.   
  
Harry found himself scowling, and quickly smoothed his face. He glanced to where Tainn and Texi had disappeared, wondering why they were taking so long, wondering how Durry was. If he had hurt him so badly... No, he wouldn't dwell on it.  
  
By the time Harry brought his attention back to the group, Valhalla had finished with Neville's hair and was trying to coax Colum into her attentions. The pale young man was refusing, but at the same time demanding the comb she was keeping just out of reach. Sarven had moved to the window and was peering out moodily.   
  
Harry saw Neville's eyes following him, and wondered what he thought. Sarven, despite his somewhat dark moods, was a good person. If Neville thought he was like Snape he was badly mistaken. He wondered if he could persuade Sarven to talk to Neville, just for a moment. Perhaps that would help.  
  
While he was watching, Sarven turned, then walked back into the room, and as he passed by his easel he ran his fingers across the top edge of the cloth covering the canvas. He looked, sad, for some reason. Harry moved to meet him, "Sarven." He said.  
  
"Harry, what reasons do people have for doing what they do?" Sarven asked suddenly, very quietly. "No matter how many books you read on philosophy and human behavior, you can never predict what someone is going to do, or why. No matter how much you think you know them or what you know about them." He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing tiredly. "I just can't understand it."  
  
"Sarven..." Harry asked, "What are you talking about? I brought Neville here because I wasn't thinking about it. I apologize again."  
  
Sarven stood still for a moment, then lowered his hand from his brow, looking at Harry as though just then seeing him. "It's nothing." He said finally. "I'm tired as well." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's alright." He said with a small smile. "I've heard about Neville, he seems to be a trustworthy young man." His smile turned into a small grimace, "Is it true that his boggart is your Professor Snape?"  
  
Harry nodded, wondering if Remus had told the story of Snape and Neville's grandmother's clothes.   
  
"So feared. I wonder." He smiled again, though it seemed strange. "Hah, so tired, my thoughts are rambling." He led Harry to a couch, "As soon as Texi and Tainn come back," And you and Neville leave, was distinctly unsaid but implied, "We'll have Genner's report and they'll get to where they need to be."  
  
He settled next to Neville, who was fingering his braid, and motioned for Harry to sit on the couch across from him. "So, how have your classes been?"   
  
The rest gathered around after a few minutes and chimed in with funny stories from their own times at their schools. It turned out that Valhalla had not, in fact, gone to Sundonoma, but had attended the Eastern school, Salem Institute. The two schools had somewhat of a rivalry going, and she joked about being outnumbered by all those western yokels. Then she had to define the word 'yokel' for Harry and Neville's benefit.   
  
Neville listened with wide eyes as Sarven laughed and told his own tale about charming Genner, and he, who was sitting on the back of the couch behind him, cuffed the dark haired man on the shoulder and said something about payback still being owed. Sarven gave him a sidelong grin, and Neville's startlement seemed to grow exponentially.  
  
Then they moved to sports, and Kingsley and Harry took turns waxing eloquently on the merits of quidditch, which was a little played sport in the United States.  
  
Harry glanced often at that door his chrono had disappeared through. What was taking them so long?  
  
After quidditch they moved onto the American sport called Unitik, which Harvan had played in school, though Harvan said he preferred Sky Surfing, whatever that was. Apparently Unitik was a sport with two teams and was played on floating boards of some sort that were attached to the player's feet. It was something like a combination of skateboarding, soccer and basketball, they said. Which Neville didn't really understand. Harry didn't really understand it himself, they 'pulled tricks' off the walls? They attempted to explain the rules for a while before throwing up their hands in despair at their continuing confusion.  
  
"You should ask Umbers." Sarven said finally, "He's played professionally, I understand. And he should be able to explain better than this bunch." Which led to protests and laughter.  
  
It was not long after this that Tainn and Texi emerged, Texi carrying a sleeping Durry in her arms. Harry stood quickly and went to meet them. "Is he alright?" He asked worriedly.  
  
"He'll be fine, Harry." Tainn assured him seriously. "But he was exhausted to the point to sickness. You must be more careful."  
  
"Much more careful, Harry." Texi added after catching his eye. "We will speak of this dream of yours at out next session." He hesitated, then nodded. The dream was still vivid in his mind, though he had managed to avoid really thinking of it until then.  
  
"And now, as your Professor, I must insist that you and Mr. Neville should be getting to your beds, it's really very very late."  
  
"Yes, sir, Mister Tainn sir." Harry replied with a mocking salute.   
  
Tainn grinned at him. "Goodnight, Harry."  
  
Harry gathered up Neville, and the two of them exited the portal hole with farewells following behind them. Harry paused as the painting swung shut, the very put out ballerina glaring at them. "Neville, you mustn't tell anyone about this." He told the other boy seriously as he shook out his invisibility cloak.  
  
"Eh?" Neville had appeared to be lost in thought. "Oh, yes, Harry, you can count on me."   
  
He wouldn't say anything, Harry knew, but he would continue thinking about the people he had seen tonight, and about Sarven.  
  
Please review. 


	31. Chapter 31: Love and Memory

I do not own Harry Potter, that inestimable honor belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Chapter 31: Love and Memory  
  
Harry looked out the window in some surprise, a dull sort of surprise that did little more than slightly widen his eyes and cause his mouth to tighten. The time had passed so quickly and silently, and he could hardly believe that it was nearly the end of October already. But the sight of the evening outside, the lightly dusting snow and the colorful leaves that either clung tenaciously to the baring branches, or already lay, a frosted carpet, proved the indisputable fact that winter was already creeping up on them.   
  
He supposed that it was because he had been so busy that the time escaped him. Between animagus classes, in which they had finalized their intentions for the animals they were becoming and were giving them intensive study, knowing them inside and out, Quidditch, they had narrowly, very narrowly won their first match against Slytherin and hence had almost doubled their practices, Occlumency, in which he was making considerable progress according to Texi and was reaching mediocrity according to Snape, and the DA, he had barely enough time to do his studying and fall into bed each night.  
  
The DA was the major time-killer. Since he had been given over complete control by professor Lanya, who decided that the stealth aspect of the club would be keeping its activities secret from even her, he had to make sure to plan the meetings carefully and covertly. There had originally been a large turnout to the first meeting, but after subsequent sessions, the ones not entirely serious about it had been weeded out, those remaining being about the same number as had been involved the year before. And they had one Slytherin, one that he could stand, thankfully, the dark-haired Gradly Mason, with his ever present notebook in which he was always taking notes.   
  
Hermione had originally been concerned about this tendency of his, and gingerly they had come to an agreement and with a mutual effort had placed a charm upon it so that only signed members of the club could actually read the contents. His habit had even proved useful once or twice, and he had officially become the time-keeper of the club. After some initial suspicion on the parts of the members of the other three houses, they had accepted him into their fold, fairly willingly, thanks to, mostly, something the young man had said on their first official meeting.   
  
They had partnered up, and as they had an odd number of people, Gradly had ended up being the odd one out, Harry finally directed him to one of the groups, and the Hufflepuff fourth year named Jonathan, paired with Ginny, had protested. The more experienced members were paired with the new ones. Gradly had smiled, shrugged, and said in a mild voice to Harry, who was looking at the Hufflepuff in annoyance, 'It's alright, Harry, we Slytherins, we grow to get used to it. I suppose it's just the way it is.'  
  
Jonathan had opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking slightly abashed.  
  
Harry had examined Gradly for a long moment, 'It may be the way it is, but I don't think that's the way it should be, at least in this room.' Then he had directed his words to the whole room, 'In here, we are neither Ravenclaw, nor Hufflepuff, nor Slytherin, nor Gryffindor, in here we are... are members of a team, the Defense Association, and we are all one group. In the real world, in... real situations, you have to be able to depend on your, er... compatriots for your very life, whoever they may be, or may have been. If there isn't trust...' He had had to cut himself off at that point, gulping heavily. But his speech seemed to have done the trick, and Ginny and Jonathan had made Gradly welcome into their threesome.  
  
Another thing they had done was to take their cue from the Stepenwolv contingent and give everyone code names. Tainn had told them that there was a reason behind the Tric Brand Nicknames (tm). When given, they became their holder's other identity, one only known within their small group. Nicknames were also used as code names. Very useful.   
  
So Harry had assigned Hermione, who was the vice president, the assignment of thinking up nicknames. The four who had gone to Stepenwolv would keep theirs, certainly, but the others would require theirs. After some agonizing, Hermione had gotten her names laid out for all of them, so a typical message passed between the members, discussing things such as the next meeting would read something like...  
  
'Sunshine,   
  
Bear Claw and Scribbler will await you in the shadow on the stair, will rendezvous with Scar and the Meow, at the echo watch then proceed to meeting point,  
  
Banner'  
  
Decoded, this would mean,  
  
'Susan,  
  
Neville and Gradly will meet you on the third windowless staircase that leads to the fourth floor, then we'll go meet Harry and Hermione in the empty classroom with the window in the door on the fifth floor. They will then lead us to tonight's meeting,  
  
Katie'  
  
Thinking up code names for the locations they would be using became a joint effort for Ron and Harry. Most location names were set, though the name for the Room of Requirement changed for each meeting, and if possible was omitted altogether. So far they had been successful at keeping their movements from the professor, but there was still a great deal of tension. She had said she'd find a way to let them know if their security had been compromised, and it had sounded a little ominous. Harry didn't think he wanted to know how she would do so, so he put forth a great deal of effort to make sure it was not necessary to find out.   
  
Harry shook off his thoughtful reverie and moved away from the window, scattering the small group of first and second years who had pause to look at him curiously, to quickly find themselves other occupations.   
  
It had been yet another long day, and he was extremely tired, ready to drop his books in his room and make his way down to the Great Hall for dinner. He hadn't had many dreams lately, but the ones that had managed to slip into his consciousness had been dark and confused. He was half tempted to stop using his receiver for one night, on the off chance that a dream of Sirius, or even that strange and powerful specter of the old man in the grotto would slip through and perhaps give him some additional information.   
  
From what they had told him, all he knew was that there was a task ahead of him, another one. He could only hope that one would actually not put his very life on the line. He wasn't hoping too hard.   
  
A woman and a book. That was another clue, a vague one, though he had begun to get suspicions about the dark tome. Hermione, perhaps, shared his unease about the book, which he believed was the Book of Karsis, and had begun combing the library, looking for references to it. She hadn't found any, and perhaps she was hoping that by this she could prove that the book really didn't exist. He knew she meant well in doing so, but he took more stock in what had been imparted to him in his unconscious mind than the lack of information in the library.   
  
If she was going to find something, she would. It seemed she always did.   
  
Lost in his thoughts, Harry found himself walking slowly down the stairs into the common room, barely pausing in the mostly empty room before pushing the portrait open, then turning, and nearly shutting it in Ginny's face.   
  
She stopped it with the flat of her hand and gave him an exasperated look as she climbed out herself. "I called you three times, Harry, but you just walked past me with your head stuck in the clouds."  
  
Harry rubbed at his neck, focusing his scattered thoughts on the small redhead. "Sorry about that, Ginny. I have a...lot on my mind lately."  
  
"You sixth years must have it hard." She commented with a wry smile. "I don't ever remember Fred or George at that point of distraction."  
  
Harry let his hand drop, exhaling wearily.   
  
She was immediately at his side, holding his arm in her small hand, "Are you really all right, Harry?" She asked in concern.   
  
"Yes, I'm okay." He patted her hand, and she released his arm, only to reach down at take his hand in hers. It looked even smaller against his, he thought suddenly, feeling his cheeks color as she led him down the hall, still hand in hand.  
  
"I know you're not, Harry." She said suddenly, halfway to their destination. "You can't hide it from me. Please, tell me what's on your mind."  
  
He stayed in stubborn silence, absorbing himself in the way her fingers twined in his, how her palm felt against his own.   
  
"Harry!" She said loudly, and he jerked his head around, finding himself staring into her chocolate brown eyes. "...please..."  
  
"I can't, Ginny." He finally said, hating the way his voice broke over the words. "I...can't."   
  
He watched as she closed her eyes in resignation, her fingers loosening their grip around his hand. He suddenly tightened his own grip, not wishing to lose the contact, and her eyes opened in surprise again.  
  
"I can't tell you, Ginny." He whispered, bringing his face close to her ear. "If what I know...what is weighing so heavily on me, is known by more than I and Dumbledore... it would put everyone in more danger." He paused, exhaling nervously. "I keep it to myself, because I don't want you, to get hurt by what knowledge you hold. So as much as I would like to tell you, Ginny..." He trailed off, distracted by the way her hair smelled sweet, like the strawberries her color resembled, and he drew back reluctantly, finding her eyes on his once again.   
  
"Okay," She said.  
  
"That's it?" He asked in some surprise.   
  
"Yes," She smiled, "that's it." She firmly grasped his hand again, pulling it behind her so their faces were close together, tilting her head, and pressing her mouth against his.   
  
Harry found it a much different sensation than the caress he had shared with Cho the year before. He found his attention, not skittering madly, his head twirling and unable to focus, but completely enthralled with Ginny as his hand moved to the small of her back, embracing her and drawing her closer. He closed his eyes, knowing that he held Ginny in his arms, knowing...  
  
They broke apart, both a little flushed and breathless. Harry cleared his throat loudly. Then he smiled, albeit a bit bemusedly. "Okay."  
  
Harry found, later, that once his mind had been able to assimilate what had happened between he and Ginny, it told him all the reasons why it wasn't a good idea, while another, different part, was reeling with happiness, and yet another was wondering how Ginny had gone from being Ron's little sister, to just Ginny, a young, very lovely woman. He found himself grinning stupidly at his pudding for no reason whatsoever. And when his friends commented that he looked happier than he had in ages, he could only nod and smile some more.   
  
He was still smiling as he made his way, his invisibility cloak slung over his arm, up to the apartments of the Stepenwolv contingent. As he drew closer to the stair leading there he heard footsteps approaching from one of the adjoining halls and quickly covered himself up with his father's cloak, moving to lay himself flat against the wall to avoid discovery from being trod upon.   
  
Three figures became known as they turned to corner and moved into a circle of firelight cast by one of the torches lining the cool stone hallway. They were strangely quiet, considering who it was he was seeing. Tainn, Texi and Sarven, all three in dark cloaks, moving like the shadows that the torches cast on the walls as they passed through the light.   
  
For a moment, Harry was quite confused. Where on earth were they going? Was he wrong in thinking that it was his night to study with Texi? He thought back... no, it was definitely the right day. He recalled Texi reminding him about it just the day before, when she had been examining a few of the streamers that would soon bloom in overabundance in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast tomorrow.   
  
Without really thinking about it, he turned and quietly padded after them, grateful that he habitually wore his trainers to his Occlumency lessons in case of a late night.   
  
He didn't really feel right, he thought as they made their way through the bowels of the castle, into the entrance hall and out the front doors onto the lawn, following them like he was, as though he suspected them of some wrong-doing. But he also felt that, as they were already half-way across the grounds, that if he revealed himself now, they would know he had been following them surreptitiously.   
  
He briefly considered just turning about and going back. It wasn't his fault that the instructor seemed to have forgotten that her pupil was expecting her to be somewhere other than she was. But, there was also that part of Harry, the part that was full of an insatiable curiosity, telling him that he had come too far to turn back now.   
  
He caved into that voice, knowing even as he did so, that it had led him wrong before and may just be doing so again. When he finished that internal argument and focused once again on the three shadows, he found that they had reached the Whomping Willow.   
  
Harry watched as Sarven rummaged around for a long stick in the frost crusted leaves, and used it to prod the knot that deactivated the flailing branches that whipped way too closely around their heads for comfort.   
  
Harry endured another brief battle with conscience and memory before quickly following them into the dark hole at the base of the tree, leaving the full moon to shine balefully down, setting the crystal carpet aglow.  
  
He hurried down into the dim-smelling dampness, and it was not long before he was confronted by a pair of glowing green eyes looking at him in the darkness.  
  
Harry only backed up two, maybe three steps, while reminding himself that Tainn and Texi did not really become werewolves, and that there was really nothing to worry about. He reminded himself also, that when people became their animal shapes, they retained their human minds except in cases of extreme distress and trauma, in which instinct may be able take over their rational thought. Harry felt his happiness taking back seat to an extreme uneasiness.  
  
"Harry...is that you?" A voice filtered out of the darkness somewhat behind the staring green eyes of the lean wolf blocking the path.  
  
"Sarven..." Harry practically gasped in relief, "Yes, it's me."  
  
"Tainn said he thought he had smelled you..." Sarven said, his form emerging out of the dim blankness of the walls, "But I couldn't really think of a reason why you may have been around, particularly on the grounds, after DARK..."   
  
Harry gulped, his mouth suddenly dry, and he pulled off his invisibility cloak, almost as though he were trying to hide that fact that he had been wearing it. "my...lesson, it was tonight..."  
  
Sarven stepped closed, beside the large wolf that was Tainn, who still stood rather tense in the middle of the path. He lay his hand on Tainn's head briefly. "I see..." He said, his voice vaguely disapproving, his blue eyes catching the light from the open doorway behind him as he turned. "You may as well come in, then."  
  
He walked back to the half open door, Tainn close behind him, and opened the way into the Shrieking Shack.  
  
"You see, Harry," Sarven said as he made himself as comfortable as possible in one of the scarred kitchen chairs, "Tainn feels more comfortable at this time of the month is he is in his wolf form, so we asked Dumbledore about it and he said that we could use this place when we needed it." He then glanced at Texi, who was curled up in a largely intact upholstered armchair, staring blankly off into space.   
  
Harry looked over as well, all the while struggling with the memories that being in this place again afforded him.   
  
"It takes each of the half-bloods differently," He said quietly, "The time of the full moon. Tainn gets jittery and temperamental, not at all like his normal self, and quite unpredictable as well. There would be a chance, should we remain in the castle on nights like this, that he would get it into his head to leave the rooms and wander the castle in his wolf form, and who knows what would happen then."  
  
Harry shuddered, imagining the uproar, if Filch or a student came across a full grown, rather large wolf wandering the halls on a full moon night.  
  
"Indeed." Sarven said diffidently, noting the reaction. "And Texi..." He sighed. "She couldn't have given you your lesson tonight, Harry, even if she had remembered. On the full moon, her abilities of Occlumency and Legillimency are essentially 'turned off' so to speak. She could no more communicate with us than Tainn could right now. Well, that's not entirely true, Tainn could bark, she can't even do that."  
  
Harry had to stop himself from staring at Texi, shifting himself uncomfortably on the rickety stool he had found in one of the other rooms. The thought of being completely cut off from everyone around him filled him with a dull sort of terror, and seeing her, usually so capable and confident, looking like a lost child, made his chest ache.  
  
"Well, Harry." Sarven said quietly. "I suppose we shouldn't let this time go to waste." He looked incredibly reluctant to say whatever he was about to say. "You are making good progress, and skipping a lesson would not be a good idea. As I am the only one capable of doing anything remotely helpful tonight, I will assist you."  
  
"You're an Occlumens?" Harry asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Legilimens?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Ah..." Was he going to make him guess?  
  
"I will give you my mind." Sarven said, again reluctantly. "You and Texi were working on sifting through your thoughts, I believe?" Harry nodded. "Then use my mind for practice."  
  
"Are...are you sure?"  
  
"Yes." Sarven told him, his face very still, "But Harry, keep in mind that we all have painful memories, and I may have more than my share. Not nearly as many as you, no doubt, but try not to be disturbed by what you find in my mind. Understand that I am leaving myself completely open to you."  
  
"I do understand." Harry gulped, "I...thanks..." He said tentatively.  
  
"To serve a higher purpose, one must sometimes do things they would rather avoid." Was all he said in answer, settling back into his chair and watching Harry, his usually open blue eyes at the moment as unfathomable as Snape's.  
  
The first image came quickly, perhaps because, on nights like this, the event that Harry saw upon emptying his mind and connecting it to Sarven's with an almost audible click, was first and foremost in Sarven's memory.  
  
He was looking into a room, one of the rooms in which Texi had said they had gotten the real work done, seeing Sarven, Texi and a woman he recognized as Texi's mother, Marianne, working over a bubbling cauldron.   
  
"I need another quarter ounce of monkshood," Marianne said, looking over her ingredients, which were neatly lined on a small table next to her.  
  
"There should be some in the main workroom." Texi supplied, her voice sweet, smiling brightly, turning to make her way out of the room.   
  
"I'll get it," Sarven said, his voice and face much younger. He stepped out of the room, passing Harry, intent on his errand. Before he had gone two steps there was a muffled explosion, and a rush of smoke filled the hallway from the room he had just left. Sarven, his expression terrible, turned and ran back, opening the door into a scene out of a nightmare.   
  
Marianne was on the floor, her face ashen gray, her eyes open and staring, Texi was a short distance from her, the rise and fall of her chest infinitesimal.   
  
"Mari! TEXI!!!" Sarven screamed, "Texi, Texi!" He rushed over and gathered her into his arms, recognizing, perhaps, that it was already too late for the woman. "Texi, speak to me! Please, please! Don't leave me, Texi! Texi!" He wept over her, "Please...wake up..."  
  
Harry felt a horrible wrenching sensation, then was in a different room, a warm room filled with sunlight filtering through the light curtains.   
  
There was a wide bed, the linens snowy, nearly as pale as the face of the woman nestled among them. Her black hair was bound neatly at the back of her neck, her eyes sunken within their sockets. She looked as though she had been sick for a long time, and showed no signs of getting better.   
  
"Mom," came a small voice, and Harry saw a young boy, maybe ten years old, standing in the doorway, holding a tray. "Mom, are you awake? I brought some tea for you."  
  
The woman's eyes opened, dark blue, and startlingly alive in her dead pale face. She smiled sweetly, turning her head. "It smells wonderful, sweet, bring it in and we'll share." She laboriously worked her way up into a sitting position, using her pillows as props, thanking her son as he placed the tray on a small table and assisted her. "Such a good boy." She laughed, and Sarven smiled tremulously in return. "Come, sit beside me and we'll watch the night come."  
  
Sarven settled himself down on the bed beside her, a pale boy, but without that sickly pallor, his hair short and neat against his forehead, and handed her a teacup. They sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea and watching the light fade through the curtains.   
  
"Sarven," The suddenness of her speech took both Harry and the boy by surprise. Sarven jumped, and turned.  
  
"Yes, mom?"  
  
"There's a bottle in the bottom drawer of my dresser, get it for me, will you?" Sarven nodded and scrambled down off of the bed, rummaging through the drawer and finding a tiny bottle full of bright red liquid.  
  
"Is this it, mom?"  
  
"Yes, indeed. Bring it here."   
  
Sarven did so, and placed it in the woman's pale hand. She stared at it while he settled again beside her.   
  
"Sweet, I need you to drink this."  
  
"Drink it?"  
  
"Yes, it doesn't taste very good, but the potion is good. You've been feeling a little sick lately, haven't you?" Her eyes were suddenly, terribly sad in her gaunt face, with a small mixture of what Harry thought was pure dark fury, as the young boy nodded. She carefully worked the stopper out and handed the bottle to him, "Be a good boy, Sarven, and drink it all down."  
  
Sarven took the bottle, looking at it dubiously, then looking at his mother, who was smiling in an encouraging manner. He took a sip and made a horrible face.   
  
"That's AWFUL!" He protested, and she laughed. After a minute of working up his will, pinching his rather prominent nose, he managed to drink the whole bottle and put it down on the tray with the teacups. "Yuck! Mom, what was that?"  
  
She sighed, "The antidote."  
  
"A...antidote?" He asked in a small faltering voice.  
  
"To the poison that...that man has been feeding us."  
  
"Mom, what are you saying!?"  
  
"When I found out, it was too late to save myself, but you, darling, I was able to make enough for you." She seemed to shrink within herself. "I'm dying, sweet." She told his with wistful resignation. "But you, he won't have you, you're going to live." She sank back against her pillows.   
  
"Mom, no! Please, you can't leave me! You HAVE to get better."  
  
"I made a provision in my will, you're going to live with some very, very kind people that I met when I first came here, they'll love you almost as much as I do."  
  
"Mom!" He protested, tears beginning to leak down his face.   
  
"You look so much like him, you know...except for your eyes...those are mine, they'll go...on." She said in an almost distant way, and Harry realized she was fulfilling her statement, already drifting away.  
  
"You're...I look like...my father?"   
  
"Yes..." She stared at him, filling her eyes with his face as he leaned over her, his tears wetting the coverlet across her stomach. "Come closer, I want a hug."  
  
He leaned farther over her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as though she intended to keep him there forever that way. His face, which Harry could see over her shoulder, was wide-eyed and disbelieving.   
  
Finally, most reluctantly, she let him go. "Always remember I love you." There was silence, then... "Sweet, I'm feeling a little cold, would you being me another blanket from the linen closet?"  
  
"I...I'll be right back then, don't..." He said, his voice breaking..."I'll be right back."  
  
She lay back, her eyes closing again. When he returned, she was already far away.  
  
"Mom? Mom! Mommy!! Noooo! Please!"  
  
Harry was aware in a distant way that his face was damp, and he lifted an arm to wipe his cheeks.   
  
There was another wrench, and he was standing in front of what he recognized as the home of the Snowfoot's, looking just as dilapidated as when he had been there, many years later.   
  
Sarven was standing beside a younger Tala, his face pale and slightly sullen, clutching a bag to his thin chest.  
  
"Everyone, this is Sarven."  
  
"Welcome!" Tainn said brightly, and his sister echoed him a moment later, smiling the same bright smile he had seen earlier.   
  
Texi moved forward and wrestled his hand away from the death grip it was keeping on his satchel. "I'll show you your room! Didn't we have History together? You'll love it here. I'll show you the fishing hole and the best place to jump over the waterfall!" She ran off, towing the surprised looking boy by his hand. "There's a bear den in the woods, and you'll like the rabbit runs! Oh! We'll have so much fun together, I'm so happy to have you, Sarven!"  
  
Most of the following memories were sweet reminisces of Texi and his time at school, and Texi, and life and Stepenwolv, and most of all Texi.  
  
Harry found himself in awe at the love in which Sarven held her. He had, after all, asked her not to leave him, and she never had.  
  
Harry brought himself out of his trance after what seemed like hours, absorbing his own self back into his mind. He looked across at Sarven, and found him smiling, albeit sadly.   
  
"She took me back there several times, to that time with my mother. And though it's painful, after a time, I could see why. My mother loved me. And she didn't want me to see her die."  
  
Harry gulped, searching for something to say, but everything that came to mind seemed insufficient.   
  
"I think it may be best if you don't go back tonight, Harry. We'll go with you in the morning." Sarven said, standing and moving towards Texi, who was still curled in her chair. He knelt beside her and started stroking her hair. The love between them had never been more evident. Harry wondered if he would ever find something like that in someone.   
  
After a while, he drowsed, absently scratching Tainn's ears when he insinuated himself beneath his hand. And he found himself dreaming, of Ginny at the seaside, walking along the cliffs in a long green dress, her hair whipping about her shoulders like a bright flame, her arms full of flowers, as he walked at her side. Of Ginny wrapped in his arms at the top of the waterfall. Laughing, they jumped.  
  
Please review. 


	32. Chapter 32: Samhain

I do not own Harry Potter, this wonderful world belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
  
I also do not own, 'Samhain' by Inkubus Sukkubus, 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia' by Charlie Daniel's Band, or 'Bad Moon Rising" by Creedance Clearwater Revival.   
  
I do, however, own the story and my original characters.  
  
Chapter 32: Samhain  
  
Hogsmeade bustled the day of Halloween. In addition to almost all of the sixth year students, Harry, Ron and Hermione included, most everyone in the castle seemed to give in to the urge to join at the village for some holiday cheer. Harry found himself buffeted from side to side several times as the busy students trotted back and forth between the sweet shop and the trick shop and any number of other beguiling destinations as it seemed that afternoon.   
  
Ron scowled as he was bumped into by a third year gnawing on a sugar quill. "I don't think I've ever seen it so busy," He muttered, stepping sideways.  
  
"Well, it's been so cold, I think everyone is glad for this excuse to get out of the castle," Hermione said mildly, adjusting the sleeve of her robe.   
  
Harry and Ginny, walking behind them, exchanged a glance, then hurriedly looked away, their cheeks reddening with far more than the cold.   
  
That morning, Harry, escorted by a furtive Sarven, had made his way back to the Gryffindor tower while the sun was just barely tinting the mist over the mountains a dusky rose. Sarven hadn't said anything further to Harry about his adventure last night, but perhaps, he assumed somewhat wryly, he had felt that the crick in his neck that Harry had gained sleeping in one of the hard chairs had been discouragement enough against repeating his actions.   
  
Sarven had left him at the portal, under the scrutinizing eye of the Pink Lady, and had made his quick way back through the halls, his back stiff, almost seeming to feel that he would run into something unpleasant with every other step. Harry had watched him quizzically for a long time before turning and giving the password.   
  
Creeping up to his bedchamber to perhaps take a nice long, hot shower and try to warm the kink out of his neck, Harry once again felt the edges of that peculiar happiness that had crept over him the day before, sidelined for a time by his experiences in the Shrieking Shack.  
  
And again, Ginny crept into his thoughts, pushing out the thoughts of the homework he REALLY should have done the night before, and the DA meeting that was quickly approaching. Harry shook his head a trifle ruefully as he crept into the bathroom, avoiding disturbing his sleeping dorm-mates.  
  
And now, now that they were together in Hogsmeade, the tide of people rushing around them, parted a bit by the prefects they followed, Harry found he couldn't quite look her in the eye. He didn't know what to do with his hands, and he felt quite gawky and awkward as they walked side by side.   
  
"Harry?"   
  
"Huh?" He asked, startled from his thoughts.   
  
Ginny smiled at him, perhaps amused. "I asked if you wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks and get a Butterbeer to warm up."  
  
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." He agreed, hoping his grin didn't look too goofy.   
  
They passed quite a few people they knew as they made their weaving way to the bar, and as a consequence of stopping to chat, it was some time later that they finally reached it, their noses rosy from the cold.   
  
Harry was grateful for the slap of warm air that greeted him as he and his friends finally pushed their way into the crowded Three Broomsticks, which was even busier than normal. Harry could even hear the sound of music being played somewhere within, though with the press, he could not see where it was coming from.   
  
Luckily, a group of seventh years were leaving just as they came in, and Ginny was quick to secure their table for their own use. They settled into their seats, the dull roar of conversation hovering over their heads and still the fainter sound of music echoing off the ceiling.   
  
"Does she have a radio playing?" Harry wondered half to himself as Ron made his way to the bar to retrieve their drinks.   
  
"Maybe." Hermione said loudly, in order to be heard.  
  
Then Ron returned, setting their drinks down on the table with a loud thunk, his expression surprised. "You guys aren't going to believe this." He told them, "There's a band."  
  
"What's so unbelievable about that?" Ginny demanded, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.   
  
"We know them." Ron said with a wide grin. "Come see."  
  
Leaving Hermione to guard their table, a task she took on reluctantly, though seeing the need for it, as before they had even left the table two groups of students tried to take their unoccupied chairs.  
  
"Sorry, these are taken," They heard her say in her best prefect's voice as they wove through the crowd.  
  
It parted towards the back corner, and the music seemed to grow louder as the talk lowered itself. They saw the reason for this momentarily, as one of the musicians was beginning to sing.  
  
She was dark of hair and eye, her dress white, making a bright contrast. She stood in the corner of the bar, her foot tapping out a beat, as the two behind her began to play; two that Harry at first thought was another woman playing the guitar and a young man on the violin who wore a shirt that read 'Sky is Life' with an image that looked like the figure of a man surfing the clouds. The dark young woman fixed her gaze on the people gathered around and began to sing.  
  
"I see, the bad moon rising, I see, trouble on the way, I see earthquakes and lightning, I see, bad times today! Don't go out tonight, well, it's bound to take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise." She half turned and winked at the one playing the guitar, seated on a low stool, who grinned at her between choruses. The fiddler smiled at the two of them as he played.   
  
"That's Colum!" Harry gasped, suddenly recognizing the young, pale haired werewolf as the one playing the guitar. With his long robes and long hair, as well as his exceptionally handsome face, Harry had mistaken him for a woman before realizing it was him.   
  
"And Harvan on the Violin. And Dresca singing." Ginny agreed, "She's really good!"  
  
"They all three are. Who would have thought?" Ron smirked at the two of them, enjoying the reaction to his discovery.  
  
"But what on earth are they doing here?" Harry demanded.   
  
Ron shrugged. "Gets me." They watched for a few minutes, as Dresca sang about the bad moon and its consequences. The gazes of the three lightened on them once or twice, but there seemed to be no recognition in their faces.   
  
"C'mon, let's go tell Hermione." Ron said finally, "And that butterbeer seems like its getting to be a better and better idea."  
  
Hermione was not quite as suitably surprised as the other three would have expected. She seemed to take it as a matter of course that the three Americans were playing in a bar in Hogsmeade.   
  
"Well," She said, much too reasonably, "It's only logical that they would like to have as many reinforcements as possible here on a night like this, particularly since, well, we're all down here."   
  
Ron grimaced, while Harry nodded tiredly. Because of him, she didn't say. Here to protect him. Well, he was bloody tired of being protected. He drained his tankard grimly and got up, intending to go to the bar and get another. But suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and a full tankard was plunked down in front of him.   
  
Harry twisted around to look over his shoulder, and saw Colum smiling down at him. "This round's on me, if, of course, you would be willing to share your table with a tired musician for a few."  
  
"Certainly." Hermione said seriously. And Colum sent her a very charming smile as he pulled up a chair and sat down between her and Ron, then gestured at Ambrose, who was wiping a table nearby. The two showed no sign of recognizing each other as Colum gave his order and the older man walked off to fetch the drinks.   
  
Harry watched him go, wondering how his job working here was going, he looked a little paler and a bit thinner, as though something were worrying him. And, thinking of pale and thin, Harry glanced about the room, wondering if he would see the green-charmed head of Umbers Godfrey somewhere within the crowd.   
  
"He was here a bit earlier," Colum told him in a very low voice, leaning in over the table. "Umbers, I mean. He looks as though he's been living in a cave. Are there caves around here?"  
  
Harry nodded, gulping, remembering, "Yes, quite a few."   
  
"Could explain it then." He grimaced, tucking his long blonde hair behind his ears, cocking his head, listening to the music of his brother and Dresca, which faded in and out over the noises of the crowd. "They've given me a little time to talk to you, playing some things that sound good whether I'm there or not," He laughed, "But that could be said of most of the songs we play."  
  
"I was very surprised to see you here." Harry said, aware of a slight censure in his voice, "Playing music."  
  
"Hmm..." Colum took a gulp of his butterbeer. He sighed in obvious contentment, then gave Harry a sidelong look. "You mean, 'instead of fighting'?" His voice very quiet, barely carrying around the table. "We ARE fighting, in our own way."  
  
"How..." Harry began to ask, but Ginny's hand found his under the table and squeezed, cutting off his words.  
  
"Information." She murmured to him.  
  
"People talk in bars, more as the night wears on," Colum was saying. "Drinks flow as well as words. They say what they would not, were they sober, and no one pays much attention to wandering mendicant musicians. Buy a garrulous fellow a few drinks and you would be surprised at what you can pick up." He nodded sagely. "We've already..." He cut himself off, "Yes, well, we've been touring the country, picking things up on our way."  
  
He gestured at them to lean forward as he dipped his finger into a small puddle of butterbeer on the tabletop and sketched a quick map of sorts, tapping his fingertip on several locations around Briton and Ireland. "See, after tonight we will be heading to Kilmarnock, then over to Ireland where we'll be playing in a tavern called the 'Hat and Feathers', then Belfast, stopping at several smaller towns along the way and then back to England to play at a place called 'Mana's Goblet' in North Allerton." He chuckled, shaking his head. "That will be the last place we'll stop before Christmas hits."  
  
"I see." Hermione looked at it closely, then reached out and smudged the remains of the crude map dry.   
  
Colum nodded in approval than turned and called out to Ambrose again, who had been gathering empty tankards from the table next to theirs. The older man turned quickly. "One more round to enjoy, then I'll have to join my fellows." Colum smiled at Abrose, who gave him a surreptitious wink and turned, balancing the mugs as he walked back to the bar.  
  
After Colum had drained his mug and gone to back it was not long until Harvan took his place, sitting with a quiet groan.   
  
"Whew," He smiled slightly, "Good to get off my feet." He placed his violin case carefully next to his feet before accepting the mug placed before him.   
  
"You play very well," Ginny told him as he helped himself to a handful of pretzels.   
  
"Thank you." He replied, "I had a good teacher." His eyes were far away for a long moment. "Though I'm no where as good as he."  
  
Harry recalled Colum's parting words, as he left with a wave, 'Ask him the story of his violin.' He had said.  
  
"Your brother told us to ask you about your violin." He said.  
  
Harvan suddenly looked embarrassed and quite engrossed in his half-empty mug of butterbeer. "He would." He muttered.  
  
Then he looked up, seeing the interested faces leaning in towards him. He sighed and smiled again. "Well, it began twelve years ago, when my brother and I were also twelve. We were out playing one night when we were attacked by a werewolf. Colum was bitten as he was shoving me up into a tree and out of danger." He looked across the room, where, as the crowd was thinner now, they could see Dresca and Colum playing.   
  
"My parents...they couldn't find it in themselves to 'deal with' a werewolf child, as they put it. So they approached Tala, who was an acquaintance of my father's through the ministry, and she agreed to take him in. They kept me." His face, though still distant, still held the traces of remembered anger and grief.   
  
"So they took away my brother, who was only the way he was because he had sacrificed himself to save me. I was so furious. We are twins, as you know, and losing him was like losing my arm." His hand came up and fiddled with the pendant that hung on a leather thong around his neck. It looked to Harry like a wolf's fang.  
  
Harry tried to imagine how Harvan had felt, being the one left. His parents basically throwing away his brother because he had become a werewolf, they sounded far too much like the Dursleys to Harry.   
  
"So I left to find him." He continued.  
  
"You left?" Hermione asked, clearly shocked. "But Stepenwolv is deep in the mountains!"  
  
"Yes." Harvan chuckled at the look on her face. "I was young then, and didn't really comprehend the distances. I didn't even have a broom and certainly didn't know how to Apparate at that age. We lived in Colorado."   
  
He nodded at Hermione's continued expression. "And I left in the autumn, so it isn't too surprising that I got caught up in the mountains with the first snows."   
  
He seemed to be warming to the story, his dark blue eyes gleaming. "So there I was, lost in the mountains, freezing, hungry, and consumed with the thought of reaching my stolen brother. I might have died very quickly if it hadn't been for the music."   
  
He was quite a story-teller, Harry thought as he tore his attention away momentarily, glancing around at the rapt faces of his friends.   
  
"The snow was falling, I recall clearly, very thickly, and I could hardly see anything more than two feet past my nose, which was by then, quite blue. And I was also very weak. I made a shelter as best I could, under the hanging branches of a pine tree, and curled up there. I think if I had gone to sleep I would never have woken up. But then, I heard the sound of a violin, drifting through the darkness. I got to my feet, not really even knowing why, I followed the sound." He wet his throat, "This is such a long story really."  
  
"Oh, please, continue!" Ginny protested. "It's splendid!"  
  
He looked at her, his eyes warm, "I hadn't gone far, when I saw a fire, a brilliant blaze much like your hair, Ginny, in all that white. And standing beside it was an old wizard, older still than your Dumbledore, I'd say, perhaps approaching 200 years. And he was standing in his brown robes, barefoot in the snow, playing his violin. When next..."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Harry interrupted as Harvan looked at him questioningly. "I must have heard you wrong. Did you say two HUNDRED years?" He disliked the way his voice rose squeakily on the last words, but it was quite beyond him to control it.   
  
"Well, yes, I'd say he was about that." Harvan said, nodding, perhaps not understanding Harry's confusion. "Maybe even older, it's not terribly uncommon."  
  
"How old is Dumbledore?" Harry demanded of Hermione, whom he was sure would know.  
  
She looked flustered. "He's approximately one hundred and fifty years old."  
  
Harry's mouth worked impotently. Why had no one ever told him? Perhaps they took it as a matter of course?!  
  
"We have longer lives," Ginny told him quietly. "I guess no one ever thought to tell you."  
  
"I didn't even realize." Hermione said, her eyes slightly startled, "I thought Dumbledore was a special case because, well, he'd worked on the Philosopher's Stone."  
  
"The Charms Tester last year..." Harry mused.  
  
"Madam Marchbanks." Hermione supplied.  
  
"...said she had tested Dumbledore when he was a student." He finished.  
  
"We'd better let Harvan finish his story." Ron told them, looking slightly embarrassed. Maybe it was because he had never thought to tell his friend about the life-spans of wizards. "He'll need to get back to the others."  
  
"Yeah, thanks Ron." Harvan nodded. "But there's not really much else to tell about it. He took me in and thawed me out, and we wintered together. He was something of a hermit, preferring to be out in the wilderness with the animals and his music as his only company. We became close, though. He was like a grandfather to me. "  
  
Anyways, he taught me how to play, and when I left him in the spring he gave me this violin." He nudged the case at his feet gently with one toe. "And for all I know, he's still up there." He shrugged. "So I made my way down into Stepenwolv, which wasn't very far away after all."   
  
He leaned closer, conspiratorially, "I've become convinced that that was his doing. I hadn't really gotten all that far before we came across each other."   
  
He leaned back again. "I was reunited with my brother, and my parents, well, they discovered that if they were going to send my brother away, they would be sending both. And since they didn't want him..." His jaw rippled, "We've been at Stepenwolv ever since, and haven't even seen them. All they did during our school years was pay our tuition. After we graduated, we were on our own."  
  
They sat looking at him, silenced, perhaps the others were thinking of the twins' parents, wondering how they could be so cruel to them. Perhaps they were thinking of their own parents and what they would do if any of their children became infected with lycanthropy.  
  
"Well," Harvan said finally. "I'd better get back. Dresca can sing all night if we let her, and I'm fresh again." He stood, and with a nod to each of them, went back to join his fellows.  
  
"That guy telling you to leave his girlfriend alone?" Sneered an all too familiar voice from behind Ginny's seat. They looked to see Draco Malfoy standing there, his cronies hovering close behind, snickering.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, her voice admirably neutral.  
  
"The blonde girl, she sure seemed friendly with you, Ron." Draco continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Sorry Her-mi-o-nee. Guess you should've kept you hair the way it was, or you may not have your boyfriend flirting with attractive blondes."  
  
"Blonde girl?" Ron asked, baffled.   
  
Hermione half-rose, her face florid with fury. Then she stopped. "Wait, what blonde?"  
  
"The one with the band, of course." He said loftily.  
  
Harry and Ginny, who had been tensed, ready for action in case this turned physical, looked at each other, then they both began to laugh.  
  
"Oh, my, oh my..." Ginny gasped.  
  
"You mean Colum, Malfoy?" Harry snorted. "I guess I should have known...though I wouldn't think he was your type."  
  
"I don't think he swings that way, Harry." Ginny laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. "Colum, I mean."  
  
Draco's face contorted, and, for once, he couldn't seem to think of anything to say that would save face on his end. "I...don't..." He turned his back on the helplessly laughing four, the set of his shoulders furious. "Let's go." He snapped at Crabbe and Goyle, who, confused, obviously hadn't been able to follow the line of the conversation.  
  
"Wait! Don't you want us to talk to him for you?" Ginny called after him. Harry, beside her, tensed, preparing himself in case Malfoy decided to do something stupid. But the blond boy kept walking, ignoring her.  
  
"I...don't think we should tell Colum about this..." Hermione finally said, repressing her giggles.  
  
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea." Harry agreed seriously. He found his opinions of the young man had changed drastically with the telling of his brother's tale. That he was what he was because of saving another made him something of a hero in Harry's view.  
  
They turned to quiet conversation, though that ended a moment later when a riff of fiddle music sounded loudly in the air of the bar and all conversation tapered off before it. Now they could see the three quite clearly, and Dresca, a base guitar slung over her shoulder, was speaking in a singsong chant to a rhythm that Colum was beating on a set of drums.   
  
"The devil went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal, he was in a bind, cause he was way behind, and he was willing to make a deal, when he came across this young man sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot, and the devil jumped up on a hickory stump, and said 'Boy, let me tell you what. I guess you wouldn't know it, but I'm a fiddle player too, and if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you."   
  
She took a deep breath, "Now you play a pretty good fiddle boy, but give the devil his due, I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, cause I think I'm better'n you.' The boy said, 'My name's Johnny, and it might be a sin, but I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, cause I'm the best that's ever been."   
  
Then Colum took up his guitar and sang along with her on the chorus, Harvan coming forward with his fiddle and playing the lively, foot tapping music.  
  
Harry and his friends found themselves clapping along, their own feet tapping the catchy beat in a staccato on the wooden floor, dimly aware that most of the others in the room were doing so as well.   
  
When Harvan played his the parts of the Devil and Johnny, his face intent, they were enraptured, and at the end, when Johnny told won the golden fiddle and put the devil in his place, everyone stood and cheered, clapping and whistling, calling Harvan forward for a bow, then cheering even louder.  
  
Harvan took his accolades in good grace, before dropping behind almost gratefully as they moved into a different song.   
  
Hermione then glanced out the window. "It's getting late, we'd better get up to the castle for the feast."  
  
Everyone else nodded, and they stood.  
  
As they walked towards the door, Dresca sang, "And the fires will burn and the Wheel of Life will turn when the dead come back home on Samhain..."   
  
Harry half-turned back, caught by the words, but then Ginny tugged at him, slipping her hand into his, and he turned back, following her out into the cold autumn night.  
  
'The wheel of life will turn...when the dead come back home...'  
  
I would like to take a moment to thank all my readers and reviewers for their support and faith that I will, eventually, finish this work of fiction. I won't name you all, but you know who you are. I, personally, can't wait for the upcoming chapters, and don't worry, all will come together in the end.  
  
Much luv, kyokki  
  
Please, please review. 


	33. Chapter 33: Puzzle Pieces

I do not own Harry Potter. That honor goes to one J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own the story and my original characters. Thank you for your kind attention.  
  
Chapter 33: Puzzle Pieces  
  
        The classroom in which Harry and the other sixth years usually took transfiguration, and, this year, animagus training, was buzzing with excitement. Today was the day that they would attempt to conjure the image of the animal that they would hopefully become. Though they had studied their intended animal thoroughly, Professor McGonagall reminded them, repeatedly, that their intentions and the actual animal did not always match up.  
  
        However, she had also informed them that it was beneficial one way or the other to have an intimate knowledge of animal anatomy. So Harry stared at the picture of the stag he hoped to become on the paper before him, and hoped that he would follow in his father's footsteps in this case. Hermione had been studying the form of the cat diligently, but also extended her studies to insects, avian and various other animal forms just in case.  
  
        Ron had hopes of becoming a lion.  
  
        Harry looked about nervously, this class also had a few observers. Professor Dumbledore sat in the back, having just ended a sprightly discussion with Professors Lanya and Flitwick. They were there to see the progress that had been made in this experimental class.   
  
        "Alright class." Professor McGonagall said in her crisp no nonsense way, "If you are all prepared, let us proceed with the incantation now."  
  
        "Spectro Animus!" Harry said, pointing his wand at the bare floor in front of his feet. He dimly heard everyone else in the room echoing his words. And, slowly, a hazy looking form began to coalesce in the air before him.  
  
        It was indeed a stag, a young one, judging by the leggy look of it, but with strong hindquarters and a broad deep chest. It became more corporeal, and now Harry could see its color was a deep coal black, not a usual color to be sure. And when it turned its head, Harry could see that between its solemn dark eyes, there was a slash of white, which, he found with a slightly uneasy feeling, was exactly in the shape of the scar that was blazoned on his own forehead.  
  
        "Now, keep your wands trained, keep them there as long as you can," the Professor's voice called out, and Harry could see her walking among the students, making notes on a piece of parchment.   
  
        He looked over at Hermione, curious, and found her staring, enraptured at the otter that was staring back at her with a winsomely intent expression on its furry little face. It looked in all ways like a normal otter but for a thatch of hair on its head that was a bit too curly to be natural.  
  
        On his other side, Ron looked like he was restraining the impulse to reach out and pat his animagus form on the head, and Harry had to fight down a rising lump in his throat.   
  
        It was a dog, looking much like an irish setter with a smooth red coat and patient brown eyes, though he was somewhat larger than usual, his body lean and lithe. He sat on his haunches, observing everything with an expression so like Ron's that it was rather uncanny.  
  
        "Excellent, you three."   
  
        Harry started and looked away from Ron and his dog to find that while he was distracted McGonagall had reached where they stood. She examined Ron's dog minutely, nodding and making more notes on her parchment, then moved onto Hermione.  
  
        Hermione almost looked abashed that her animal was not a cat, but she beamed broadly when the Professor proclaimed her otter charming.   
  
        Then she came to Harry's stag, and stopped, looking at it very closely. "Most unusual, Potter, that it has more than one distinguishing mark." She glanced at his forehead, then back at the stag, seeing the mark perfectly duplicated. "One does not often see one of these in this color."  
  
        Harry found himself beginning to feel nervous and a bit disconcerted with both the eyes of the Professor and the stag trained on him. He lowered his wand hurriedly, a strange shiver making its way down his back, and the stag vanished. McGonagall looked at him piercingly, but said nothing as she moved on.  
  
        Harry looked around, finding more than a few eyes trained on him, and he noticed with some embarrassment that he was the only one who had released his animal's image after it had been examined. He walked over to Ron, aware of his flushed face, making brief notes of a falcon soaring over his head from across the room and the skittering quicksilver movements of what appeared to be a small brown squirrel. He heard as well a rather shaky sounding student protesting that he was NOT a skunk, thank you very much, and the strident sounds of someone who apparently had summoned a spider begging another classmate not to squash it.   
  
        "Well, it's not a lion." Ron said briefly when Harry reached him, but the flush on his ears and neck pronounced him pleased nonetheless.  
  
        "He's brilliant, Ron." Harry heard Hermione say from over his shoulder, and he hastened to add his agreement. Ron's blush grew deeper.  
  
        "Yes, a most fetching animal, Ronald." Professor Lanya's voice agreed, and Harry noticed that she and Dumbledore had approached and were looking over the various animals now moving around the classroom. "And your otter, is being so as well, Hermione," She added, with a nod at the creature which was now bouncing around Hermione's ankles. "And your stag was simply an animal of magnificence, Harry."  
  
        Dumbledore said nothing, but he smiled at Harry with what was rather an understanding light in his eyes. Then the two of them moved on, and Harry tried to dispel the uneasy feeling that rose in him whenever he saw the stag's face in his mind's eye.  
  
        That night, Harry lay in his bed, his eyes trained on the curtains above his head. He let his thoughts tumbled wildly over themselves for a long moment, then busied himself with the exercise of selecting out certain memories and pushing them into an inaccessible corner of his mind. Then he concentrated retrieving them one by one, and examining them.   
  
        The first thought he pulled out was the day he got his Firebolt, he looked at that memory from all angles, thinking of the time and circumstances in which he had received it, then carefully, he cut out the parts of the memory connected to Voldemort, and then he brought out the associations that the broom had with his memories of Sirius and pulled them into greater prominence, and almost immediately, the joy of that day overshadowed all else. He was able to forget, for a moment, that Sirius was gone.   
  
        He closed his eyes and smiled before, almost viciously, he tore away the modifications he had made to the memory, and as though all freshly renewed, they flooded back, and he once again felt a sickening grief. He tamped it down, and turned to the next remembrance, going through each and every one that came to his mind that night. And, in time, and with effort, the grief became less.   
  
        He had gotten this idea from both his lessons with Texi, and yes, even Snape, as much as he hated to admit it, as well as with Sarven on that night before Halloween, now several weeks past. He had decided to try and go back to his memories, to understand them, and to learn from them. He had learned much, but still understood little. It was a trifle frustrating, but this was what drove him in his lessons, making much progress in what seemed little time. Even Snape had acknowledged it, in that back-handed way he had.  
  
        He opened his eyes again with a sigh, and checked his watch, which had been a gift from Hermione for his sixteenth birthday. It was very late, he thought, as he replaced the watch on his bedside table and turned over, pulling his blankets up around his neck.   
  
        As luck had it, just before he closed his eyes, he caught a rustle of movement among the curtains at the side of his bed.  
  
        "Who's there?" He demanded quietly.  
  
        The movement paused, but then, a moment later, a small black form slithered up one of the bedposts and across his pillows. Harry relaxed. "And what news tonight, Cord." He asked, slight exasperation apparent in his voice.  
  
        "Master," Cord greeted him, "I have been up on the fourth floor, and I encountered much activity unusual for the humans at this time of night, sunlight lovers as most of them are."  
  
        Cord had come, after that first long absence, during which he claimed he was exploring the castle, which he called, 'as confused as a rabbit warren', to think that he should make reports from what things he witnessed while he slithered unobserved through the halls. Harry guessed that that was something simply in his nature, since his original intention had been as a spy.   
  
        "Do you know what it was about?" Harry asked, turning over and propping one arm under his head. Durry, who had been curled up there on his pillow, opened one eye half-way, greeted Cord with a muffled squeak, then returned to his rest.   
  
        "It is difficult to say. Most activities of humans are unusual to ones such as us." He sometimes seemed to forget that Harry was not a snake himself. "But there was much rushing of feet and hushing of voices."   
  
        Harry became interested. Usually the only things Cord reported were surreptitious trysts in the darkened halls, towers, or classrooms, and the seemingly ceaseless patrolling of the professors. Harry had also heard about a rather eventful encounter with Mrs. Norris, in which it seemed, they had startled each other, but the cat had had the worse reaction. Harry recalled that she had been scarce for several days after that report, and Filch had taken to being more suspicious of everyone, even poking at the tapestries as he walked, as though expecting something inside them to say 'ouch'.   
  
        "Was there anything else, Cord?" He asked.  
  
        "If you wish to know all, you could look into my thoughts."  
  
        Harry recoiled instinctively. It was not the first time Cord had suggested this, and it always took Harry aback. He shuddered in revulsion at even thinking of such a thing, but Cord seemed to think of it being as a matter of course.   
  
        "Just...just do your best." He said finally.  
  
        The sleek black snake bobbed its head in acceptance. "It centered around the room I cannot enter."  
  
        "Dumbledore's office."  
  
        "Yess... and also a room near the place with many books." Harry nodded. "There were feet going back and forth, and many faces looked...pale. It was still going on when I chose to return."  
  
        "Thank you Cord." Harry said, knowing that this would be the most he would get in the way of information. "Will you rest now?"  
  
        "Yes, thank you master." With that, he slithered under the blankets and curled up against Harry's feet, leaving Harry alone to contemplate the meanings behind many feet going back and forth between the Stepenwolv apartments and Dumbledore's office.  
  
        As he lay there, trying to fall asleep, the image of his stag, the form he would take upon becoming an animagus, appeared before his eyes, and he hastily banished the vision before deciding to do something he had contemplated trying before. He had been cautious about it because he wasn't sure what the effect would be, but now, with his curiosity roused, and his lack of visits from Sirius, he decided to risk it.  
  
        Harry formed his receiver in his mind's eyes, then, very carefully, he let his emotions flow into it, but not all of them. He retained just enough to feel, but only in a rather distant way. The dog gained in substance, but it also seemed to look at him expectantly, and as Harry let himself fall into the realms of slumber, the eyes seemed to have turned faintly approving, but as blankness covered his mind, he was certain he had just imagined it.   
  
        Harry stood on the shore of the Hogwarts lake, staring out across the silvery water. The air was neither cold nor warm, and as he stooped to wet his fingers, he found the water to be the same.   
  
        This was the place, he remembered, where they had fallen, where he had looked up to see what he had thought was his father, sending the beautiful silvery Patronus galloping smoothly across the lake to save their souls from the kisses of the Dementors.  
  
        The water was still as glass, but as he watched, as sudden breeze seemed to ripple across the surface, approaching him and tousling his hair as it brushed past. He closed his eyes, remembering, when he felt a faint touch on his shoulder.  
  
        "Harry."  
  
        "Sirius." Harry replied, not turning around, not opening his eyes.  
  
        "I remember, I was not so afraid, as when I heard your voice while the Dementors were still surrounding me. And believe me, I was terrified before."  
  
        "We all were."  
  
        "I know." The voice paused, the grip on his shoulder tightened. "Harry, turn around."  
  
        Harry straightened his shoulders, and turned. Sirius stood there, but as had happened before, his appearance was different from the last time he had seen him. Here, on the shores of the lake, he appeared as he had when Harry had first met him, ragged, dirty, thin, that hollow look pronounced in the depths of his gray eyes.   
  
        But as Harry watched, the face and arms filled out, the dirty, unkempt, look vanished, his hair became neat and glossy, and his ragged robes changed to a soft gray that matched his eyes. The years slipped away, and the hollowness of his gaze vanished.   
  
        "It's not so bad a thing, you know, Harry." He said quietly. "It is worse, I think, for the ones left behind, for the ones with things unfinished, for the ones who choose to stay."  
  
        "Ghosts?"  
  
        "And those living while others close to them have moved on."  
  
        "I miss you."  
  
        "I know, Harry." His hand squeezed the young man's shoulder once again, and then it was lowered to hang at his side. "There is something I left unfinished, something that I could not resolve, something I could not see happening. And when it happened, I was already on the other side."  
  
        "Just say it!" Harry burst out, suddenly, unaccountably angry. "Say you're..."  
  
        "Yes, I'm dead, Harry." Sirius said soberly. "And the dead loose most ties to the living world, most...except with those who remember us. But those ties should not become chains...on either side."  
  
        Harry's shoulders sagged. "You mean, you don't want to speak to me anymore."  
  
        "No, Harry, I'm not saying that." Sirius said, still in a very calm voice. "But the sacrifice must not be made."  
  
        Harry stared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
        "Just what I said." He sighed. "Like the one told you, there are limitations. The most I can say is..."  
  
        "I must do what she cannot." Harry interrupted bitterly.  
  
        Sirius looked at him piercingly. "It is important, Harry. And you must choose."  
  
        "Choose?"  
  
        "Between desire and necessity." Sirius turned slightly, staring over Harry's shoulder, "It is a difficult thing to do; it is a difficult thing to tell the difference."  
  
        His hand grasped Harry's arm, and he hissed, "Look!" turning him around to face the lake again.   
  
        Harry found himself thrust around, his back to Sirius, and the two of them observed as a figure walked into the shallows, lifting the skirts of its robes to keep the hem out of the water. Small, bare feet gleamed coldly beneath the clear, still surface. Harry narrowed his eyes as he recognized what the figure was approaching. It was a stone plinth, the top adorned with an ancient-looking tome.   
  
        The figure paused in front of the short column and seemed to hesitate, then, as though seized with some terrible impulse, it reached out, and took the book in small, slim white hands.  
  
        It turned, the book clasped closely against its chest. And Harry could almost make out a face within the shadows of the cowl pulled down low around its face. Blonde curls peeped out around smooth pale cheeks, and one clung to pale, bloodless lips. The woman had her head bent, as though she were cringing against some suspected blow, walking out of the water with mincing steps.   
  
        She walked quite close to Harry and Sirius before she stopped, her head still bowed, but Harry could see tears leaking down to drip off of her chin. Then her lips moved, and Harry heard, in a sweet, wispy voice, the word, 'Gypsy.' For a brief moment she lifted her head, and Harry got a glimpse of bright blue eyes, so bright that they seemed almost to be an impossible color for eyes to be. She seemed to stare straight at him, blue eyes meeting the brilliant green of his own. Then, she vanished.  
  
        "Even the best of intentions." Harry heard Sirius murmur, and he turned around again, just in time to see his Godfather's back disappear through the rippling veil in the unsupported archway that seemed on the verge of crumbling, as it always did.   
  
        "Sirius..." He whispered, beyond sadness. Then he shook himself. "Wait! She said gypsy! What does that mean!? Wait!"  
  
        But it was too late for any more questions. And Harry found himself alone, the gateway to death before him, and the stone plinth, now empty, behind.  
  
        Harry hesitated, then walked forward, he reached out his hand to touch the veil, finding it just as attractive to his curiosity as before. But, just before his hand touched it, he felt as though there was a presence behind him. He jerked around, feeling for the wand that his dream self did not have. And there was the woman again, seeming to look straight through him and into the space within the arch.  
  
        Harry saw her lips move again, and he strained to hear her soft whisper. "Sirius." Her face was filled with conflicting pain and hope, joy and terror, love and horror.  
  
        Then the scene seemed to shift, painfully, and he tore his mind back from the implications of that.  
  
        Harry woke up with an uncomfortable jolt, his hand finding the burning pain of the scar on his forehead. As he sat up he acknowledged how risky that had been, but it had been worth it, in his opinion. More pieces of the puzzle.  
  
        Harry rubbed at his face, then swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet finding his slippers. He didn't think he would be able sleep anymore that night, so, with a sigh, he pulled on his dressing gown. Cord, perhaps annoyed that his source of warmth was leaving, raised his head and asked where he was going in a slightly put-out hiss.  
  
        "I need to walk." Harry told him tiredly.  
  
        "May I accompany you, Master?" He asked, and Harry thought the snake seemed pleased that Harry was acquiring his habit of nighttime wanderings. Harry, in answer, held out his wrist and allowed the small snake to curl around it, taking up their favorite form of accompaniment.   
  
        He trod quietly to his chest and pulled out the invisibility cloak. It was rare, now, that he ever thought to leave the dormitory at night without it, and recently, those nocturnal wanderings had increased in frequency. This was the first time, though, that Cord had come with.   
  
        Harry made his way out the portrait hole, ignoring the sleepy protestations and inquiries of the fat lady.  
  
        He let his feet lead him, not paying attention to where he was going other than to avoid tripping over things or tumbling down stairways. He passed Peeves without really seeing him, just thinking briefly that the poltergeist had seemed dejected since his reign of terror against Umbridge had ended.   
  
        Harry rubbed fretfully at the back of his right hand at the thought of the repulsive toad-like woman.   
  
        Likewise, he passed Mrs. Norris, only giving over a moment to brief wondering as the cat sniffed the air, laid her ears back against her head and bolted. Cord gave a satisfied sounding hiss from his wrist.   
  
        He found himself in seldom wandered parts of the castle, walking past unfamiliar portraits full of sleeping occupants, past rusting armor that seemed to creak tiredly into the dank air. He found himself nearly running into a black-clad form that was peering quietly around a corner.   
  
        Harry stopped with a jolt, his heart hammering at the sight of the black-clad back. Then the person turned his head and Harry saw Sarven's prominent profile. The young man seemed very agitated and pre-occupied, once taking several steps down the corridor into which he had been peering, then muttering angrily, it seemed, at himself, and turning back again. Finally he gave an angry shake of his head and strode off in Harry's direction, brushing very closely past him as Harry shrunk against the wall.  
  
        When the young man had disappeared, Harry, curious, went to see what he was looking at that had gotten him into such an agitated mood, but, upon glancing down the hall, all he saw was darkness.  
  
        It was early morning by the time Harry's heavy steps took him back to the Gryffindor common room. He gave the password, and the Fat Lady scowled fiercely at a point above his left shoulder before her portrait swung back to allow him inside.   
  
        Harry pulled off his cloak as he stepped inside, raking his hand through his tousled hair and stifling a yawn.  
  
        "Harry?"   
  
        He jumped, and focused his bleary eyes on someone approaching him, looking newly-wakened. Ginny's hair shone like fire in the light of the rising sun outside the window.  
  
        "Harry, what were you doing, are you all right?"  
  
        "I...couldn't sleep." He told her quietly, unwilling to explain about his dream of the night before.   
  
        "You look dead on your feet!" She protested. "Maybe you should skive off classes this morning and get some sleep."  
  
        "Can't..." He said, stifling another yawn with his hand. "We have an important session in Defense this morning, I can't miss it, it'll be useful for DA meetings. Stealth and concealment."  
  
        Ginny stared at him, or, more accurately, at his right wrist, where Cord had lifted his head and was looking at her curiously.  
  
        "Who is this?" Cord hissed. "Your mate?"  
  
        "No, I'm not!" Ginny protested. Then she gave a small scream, scrabbling backwards and clapping a hand over her mouth.  
  
        "G-ginny?" Harry asked, aghast.  
  
        She looked at him, her eyes wide and terrified.  
  
        "She speaks! Another master?" Cord asked Harry. Harry couldn't find it in himself to answer.  
  
        "N-no, no I'm not! Get...get away!" Ginny yelled in the hissing tones of parseltongue, then she turned so pale her freckles stood out like ink spots on her skin.   
  
        "Ginny." Harry began, stepping towards her, his non-Corded hand held out. "It's alright, don't be afraid. It's alright."  
  
        She didn't seem to be able to answer that, her hand clamped over her mouth tightly once again, as though afraid she would start spewing parseltongue again against her will.   
  
        With a strangled cry, she turned and fled up the stairs into the girl's dormitory, where Harry knew he could not follow.  
  
Please, please, please review! 


	34. Chapter 34: Blood

I do not own Harry Potter. He and his magical world belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them. I do, however, own the story and my original characters. Thanks go out to LittleMasa-ouki, willz, and RurouniKen-ouki for their assistance and criticism.  
  
Chapter 34: Blood  
  
Ginny was avoiding him, Harry thought as he made his heavy way up the stairs to the Stepenwolv apartments. It was the Wednesday after the incident in which the red-headed girl had confronted Cord. He understood how she felt, but how was he to tell her that if she turned and walked the other way every time she saw him approach. Often during the past few days he had wondered if perhaps there had been a Ginny-repelling field emanating from his robes, extending into a ten-foot radius surrounding him.   
  
It was rather interesting, he pondered, that their roles of the last year seemed to have been reversed. Now, HE knew how SHE felt but she wouldn't listen when he tried to talk to her. He thought, perhaps, that it was not so much being a Parselmouth that bothered her, but instead the reminder of the connection that she had had with Voldemort, erstwhile Tom Riddle. Harry would rather like to forget his connection with the dark wizard, himself.  
  
But still, he had meant what he said to her. It was alright, she didn't need to be afraid. Being able to talk to snakes certainly did not make one a bad wizard, and most snakes were rather nice creatures, he had noticed.   
  
Harry looked up, and saw that while his mind was wandering, his feet had kept the intended path and he had arrived for yet another lesson with Texi.  
  
"Kumquat." He said, pulling off his invisibility cloak and hanging it over his shoulder as the portrait swung open.  
  
It was a particularly draining lesson that night, but Harry was satisfied that he had managed to either block Texi out, or throw her out after she had broken in, five times out of seven.   
  
Texi had pronounced him ready for the next stage, which was allowing only selected memories to be viewed. But, even though there was plenty of time remaining that night, she decided to save it for next time. Harry assumed that he looked as drained as he felt, because he caught her looking at him in concern several times during the course of the lesson.  
  
They had summoned up some tea, and spent most of his lesson time just talking.   
  
Tainn, who had not been there when Harry had arrived, entered looking rather harried and at an unusually late hour. He flopped, in his boneless puppy-like way, into a chair and seized a cup of strong-smelling coffee with relish. His eyes were half-lidded, and he seemed to be a little, in Harry's opinion, tipsy. Though, of course, with Tainn it was sometimes hard to tell.   
  
Harry and the others attempted to make some conversation with him, but he kept losing track of his sentences halfway through them. So finally they allowed him to just listen in silence, nursing his coffee between his hands like a baby bird.  
  
Tainn dropped off to sleep a few minutes later, still holding his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. Luckily, Sarven managed to catch it before it tipped, thus saving the animagus from a rather uncomfortable awakening.  
  
His sister shook her head at him. "He must've had a hard day."  
  
Finally, Texi announced that it was time for Harry to return to his dormitory.   
  
"Why don't I walk with you tonight, Harry." Sarven told him as the three stood. "I'm having a bit of an uneasy feeling about tonight."  
  
"Why uneasy?"  
  
Sarven smiled. "It'll just make me feel better to see you safely to your dormitory."  
  
Harry recalled feet moving back and forth and hushed voices.  
  
"I'll come, too," Texi announced, turning from where she was putting a blanket over her brother, who was snoring like a handsaw.. "Phew," she added, waving a hand in front of her face as though to clear away smoke, "He smells like whisky."  
  
"We'll dump him into bed when we get back." Sarven laughed.  
  
"Strange, though. Tainn's not a drinker." She shrugged.  
  
"Hagrid probably persuaded him," Harry provided.  
  
"Could be." She agreed with a silent little laugh. "Well, let's get going."  
  
The three pushed aside the tapestry and climbed out the portrait hole into the darkened halls of Hogwarts castle.   
  
"So how are things, Harry?" Sarven asked after a very brief period of listening to the sounds of their own footfalls. As Harry was wearing his invisibility cloak, by Sarven's request, he didn't even try looking for him as he spoke.  
  
"I've been better." Harry said shortly.  
  
"Women troubles?" He asked with a half-smile.  
  
Harry missed a step, "H-how did you know?"  
  
"Much experience." Sarven replied lightly, glancing at Texi, who smiled at him benignly. This seemed to make him a bit nervous, for he cleared his throat several times before continuing. "Can you tell us?"  
  
Harry shrugged irritably, then realized they couldn't see him anyways. "I don't know. She's been avoiding me for a couple days now."  
  
"Do you know why?" Sarven inquired, taking Texi's arm in his as they walked through the dim halls.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, you have a head start, then." He smiled. "Usually the most trouble comes from trying to figure out what you've done wrong."  
  
"I didn't do anything wrong!" Harry protested. "I didn't expect to see her when I got in that morning. I didn't get much sleep, and I forgot I had Cord with me. It wasn't my fault that she answered him."  
  
"Harry...what?"  
  
Harry stopped, looking behind him. Sarven had stopped as Harry had walked on. "What is it?"   
  
Texi and Sarven were looking at him, well, in his general direction, in confusion. "What are you talking about?" She asked.  
  
Harry could have smacked his own thick head. Hardly a week had passed and already he had let slip Ginny's hard-kept secret. He really needed some real sleep or he would soon find himself spewing his deepest secrets over the breakfast table.  
  
A brief vision appeared, with him standing on a bench in the great hall during dinner and bellowing at the top of his lungs, 'I'm being visited in my sleep by my dead godfather, and he keeps telling me I have to do something, but he won't tell me what it is! Furthermore, I have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill me! If anyone ELSE has something they need me to do, please join the queue! If I'm still alive I'll attempt to accommodate you! That is all!' Harry groaned to himself, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.  
  
"I've recently discovered that I'm not the only Parselmouth at Hogwarts." He said tiredly.  
  
Texi had her head tilted towards him, her lips pursed in thought. "Was it...acquired...similarly?"  
  
"Yes. But I don't want to say anymore." He said sharply. "It's her secret to tell, and I didn't have any right to blurt it out like that."  
  
"Understood, Harry." Sarven said soothingly. "I'm sure you'll work it out yourself."  
  
"As though I don't have enough to do," Harry murmured under his breath.  
  
"We've noticed that you seem stretched a little thin recently." Texi told him, and for a moment he thought she had overheard him.  
  
They started walking again, and Harry fell in beside them. "Are your classes going alright?" She continued, "How about your lessons with Professor Snape?"  
  
"My classes are fine...although..." He hesitated. "I might have to give up the animagus class. There's just too much extra studying I have to do, and with the DA..." He felt rather uncomfortable. It was really the stag that made him hesitant to continue with animagus training. The uneasy feeling it gave him hadn't dispelled one bit. "The lessons with Sna...Professor Snape have been better. My scar doesn't hurt anymore, at least."  
  
Texi shot a sharp glance in his direction. Sarven just kept walking, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Just then, Harry caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to look behind him. He didn't see anything for a moment and had almost convinced himself it was just a trick of the eye when he saw it again. He turned the rest of the way, his hand on his wand. Then he recognized the swoop and stalking motion of the figure.   
  
"Sarven," He hissed at his back, padding quickly and lightly to catch up with them. But the dark young man didn't hear him, and he and Texi kept walking. "Sarven." He whispered urgently. The young man looked in the direction of his voice.  
  
"Well." Came a smooth, silky, terribly familiar voice out of the shadows behind them. "What have we here?"  
  
Sarven froze.   
  
"I understand," Snape continued in a smooth voice, "that the halls of the castle must be terribly...romantic...and inviting to midnight strollers, hm?"  
  
Sarven's face had turned pale, and his hands, Harry noticed, were shaking. Texi was tugging at his arm, her eyes alarmed.   
  
"Face me!" Snape snapped. "I will not suffer to talk to your backs."  
  
He thought that Sarven and Texi were students, Harry realized. Perhaps the situation was salvageable. His mind raced furiously. It was dark, Snape couldn't see them properly. Maybe if he raced back and overturned a suit of armor...  
  
He was forestalled in his plans, though, when Sarven set his shoulders. In a quick, fluid movement, he turned, sweeping Texi behind him as though she were a rather heavy cloak. Texi shot a wild look in Harry's direction.  
  
"Say nothing." He heard her declare from where he had flattened himself against the wall.  
  
Snape stalked forward. "What house are you from?" He demanded. He came closer, looming ominously and folding his arms over his robed chest. He stopped. He looked at Sarven closely.   
  
Snape pulled out his wand and held it between them. "Lumos."  
  
Harry watched in stunned silence as Snape lit their two faces.   
  
Now that they were close together, Harry could pick out some rather significant differences between Snape's and Sarven's features. Sarven's face was fuller, and youthful, while Snape's face was drawn. Sarven had a rather squarer jaw, his nose was not quite as long, and he was also a hair taller. Black eyes and blue eyes met and glittered in the white light emanating from Snape's wand, which, Harry noticed, was trembling slightly in the air.  
  
Other than that, they could have been brothers, or father and son.   
  
"No." Snape whispered, "You're not supposed to be here..."   
  
Harry gaped, aware that his mouth was hanging open but finding himself unable to do anything about it.   
  
"Why should I not be...dad?" Sarven asked quietly.  
  
If Harry had thought his jaw could not drop any lower, he was terribly mistaken. His head swung between Sarven's too calm visage, and Snape's too pale face. Finally, his gaze came to rest on Texi, and he found an almost satisfied look flitting across her features.  
  
Snape stared a moment longer. Then he turned on his heel and swept off quickly into the darkness.  
  
"Harry." He turned and saw Texi looking in his direction, past Sarven's pale face and painful eyes. "Will you follow?" She asked urgently.  
  
Harry did not hesitate. "Yes." He answered, and he sped off into the night.   
  
He caught up to Snape just in front of Dumbledore's office, and he hung very close behind him as the Potions Master told the gargoyle the password. It sprang aside, and Snape mounted the rising staircase that carried visitors up to the Headmaster's apartments. Harry hesitated a moment before climbing onto a stair only a few steps below the obviously troubled man.  
  
"Headmaster!" Snape bellowed, pounding on the door. Harry, finding not much room on the platform at the top of the stair, hoped that he wouldn't take a step back. But, luckily, the door swung open under Snape's hand. The Potions Master, his face terrible, walked in.   
  
Harry hesitated, quite torn. He was fairly sure that Dumbledore could see through his invisibility cloak, and if he stepped into that office he would be immediately discovered. His answer came a moment later, when Dumbledore himself appeared at the door. Under the pretense, he supposed for Snape's benefit, of checking for anyone there, he glanced out. His eyes caught Harry and flashed behind him, into the office. An obvious invitation to enter.  
  
Harry was gratified, but confused. Nevertheless, he didn't hesitate long, moving past the Headmaster and quickly positioning himself near the door. While he was thinking of his good fortune, and trying to slow down his speeding pulse, Dumbledore, clothed in a dressing gown tossed over a nightshirt, crossed to the chair behind his desk and sat.   
  
"Now, Severus, what was it that brings me the pleasure of your company at this time of night?" He asked pleasantly, "Would you like some hot chocolate, a cup of tea, a nice snifter of brandy?"  
  
"What I would like, Headmaster, is to know why my son is in this castle." Snape said, his voice a trifle more venomous than when he usually addressed Dumbledore. "What I would like, Headmaster, is to know what he is doing in this country. He is not supposed to be on this side of the ocean!" Snape controlled himself with an effort.   
  
Dumbledore fixed him with a calm gaze, his hands folded over his stomach. "He is of an age to make his own choices."  
  
Snape made a convulsive gesture. "I sent them away, as you may recall, to protect them, Headmaster. This is the worst time for them to return, the worst time." Snape, perhaps unconsciously, rubbed at his left arm.   
  
"Eloise is not here, Severus." Dumbledore said sadly.  
  
Snape gave him a sharp look. "Is she not well?"   
  
"She died eight years ago." Dumbledore told him gently. "You asked not to be told of them, I might remind you, to keep them from further danger. I also might say that I debated with myself when I learned of it." He fixed Snape with a wise look. "Do you mourn for her?"  
  
Snape looked caught off guard with the question, and he took the chair that Dumbledore gestured him to almost cautiously before answering. "She...she was kind to me. But we have been apart for nearly seventeen years. I have moved on."  
  
"Hmm..." Dumbledore mused.   
  
"What happened?" Snape asked, his voice much less demanding than before.  
  
"From the point that she arrived in America?" Dumbledore asked, half to himself. "As we had planned, she was introduced to some trustworthy people, and she and Sarven, your son, I should say, established a life there." Dumbledore paused, standing and pouring himself a drink, offering the decanter to Snape, who refused it with a sharp snap of his head. "But then, she met Accalon Tristan."  
  
Snape's hands tightened so on the arms of the chair he was ensconced in that Harry fully expected to hear the snapping of wood or bone. "Tristan." He hissed.  
  
"Yes." Dumbledore nodded, "Sadly, no one at that time knew that he was a supporter of Voldemort." Snape flinched slightly. "And she ended up marrying him."  
  
"That vile...!" Snape burst out.  
  
Snape calling Tristan vile somehow made Harry think the man was even worse than he had thought previously.  
  
"Perhaps he had plans of using them, but then Harry Potter came along, and Voldemort was broken and fled." Dumbledore continued. "Apparently, a few years after that, she began to grow suspicious of his dealings, and confronted him on several occasions. He tired of her, I should say, knowing, and yet not knowing his mind. And when your son was in his ninth year he began to poison her."   
  
Harry nodded to himself, recalling Sarven's memory of the last minutes with his mother.  
  
"What did he use?" Snape asked with an almost clinical detachment.  
  
"Blood Pendelum." Dumbledore said.  
  
"That has a distinctive taste." Snape mused, still in that strange, detached voice. "She would have recognized it. She would have known how to make the antidote."  
  
"It was fed to her over a long period of time, mixed into her regular food." Dumbledore told him gently, as though assuring him that she would, indeed, have recognized it. "By the time she realized what the symptoms meant, it had infused her too deeply for the antidote to work. She, instead, made it for her son."  
  
"He was poisoning the boy, too?" Snape snarled.  
  
"Sure you wouldn't like a quaff, Severus?"  
  
Snape hesitated. "Yes, thank you, Headmaster." He finally acceded. Dumbledore poured him a generous finger of brandy before returning to his chair.   
  
"Sarven, a very intelligent lad, saved the bottle the antidote was in, and by his testimony, the state of Eloise's destroyed blood, and testing of the remnants in the bottle, they managed to have him convicted and sentenced to life for murder."   
  
It may have been Harry's imagination, or some trick of the light, but Harry thought for a moment that he saw pride in Snape's face at Sarven's foresight.  
  
"What happened to him after that, to Sarven?" Snape asked.  
  
"As luck would have it, Eloise had managed to keep in contact with one of those trustworthy people she met when she first arrived. She made a provision naming her as his guardian. He has lived with her ever since." He paused, deep in thought. "He went to Sundonoma Academy, had excellent marks in Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Arithmancy, graduated high in his class and is the beloved of Mitexi Snowfoot."   
  
"You've certainly kept tabs, Headmaster." Snape said.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Well, it gives me something to do in my spare time."  
  
"Who was his guardian?"   
  
"Ah, she was born Tala Snowfoot, but of late her surname has changed to Lupin."  
  
Snape lifted a sinister eyebrow. "He was raised with werewolves? How are his table manners?"  
  
Harry nearly fell over his own invisibility cloak. Over the course of the conversation he had nearly forgotten that he was an unknown, or nearly so, listener. Was that a glimmer of humor he had just witnessed?  
  
"Severus." Dumbledore said warningly, but with a rather amused sparkle in his eyes. "I assure you, all the werewolves I've met have had excellent table manners."  
  
"Headmaster..." Severus began, almost hesitantly, "He is well, isn't he? Did she tell him about me, or..."  
  
Dumbledore drained his brandy before answering. "From my encounters with him, I have found him most well-adjusted, with a keen sense of right and wrong and a sharp mind. And as for telling him about you, he has carried the truth of his identity, and paternity, with him since the day they set foot on American shores."  
  
"How do you mean, Headmaster?"  
  
"What name was he given when born, Severus, if you recall?"  
  
"Gaius." The Potions master replied shortly.  
  
"Ah, a fine tradition in naming." Dumbledore smiled. "Yet this could be a beacon pointing to you, as Eloise realized. So she instead gave him the name, Sarven Pensouss." As he spoke, Dumbledore traced the name in bright white letter in the air above his desk. He flicked his wand, and they reformed themselves to spell, 'Severus Snape Son.' "I daresay she left out an 's' to avoid too much hissing while speaking it." He smiled again, but this time sadly, Harry thought.  
  
"She was always a clever woman." Snape mused.  
  
"Indeed she was. A pride to the house of Ravenclaw at her time in school." Dumbledore agreed. Then he looked past Snape, to where Harry stood against the wall. "Hm?"  
  
He tilted his head and rose, heading towards the door to his office, catching Harry's eye as he went. Harry moved from his place against the wall, and followed. Dumbledore opened the door and peered out, leaving Harry enough space to squeeze past him.   
  
"I do hope this will set his mind a bit more at ease." Dumbledore said in an undertone, as Harry passed under his arm. "But now the hour is far past for you to sleep." Harry nodded at the headmaster, and stepped onto the platform. Dumbledore closed the door.  
  
"Thought I heard something, Severus." Harry heard him say brightly, "But I suppose I am only allotted one late, yet delightful, visitor a night."   
  
"I see." Snape answered smoothly, yet a tad suspiciously, as Harry stepped onto the descending staircase.  
  
"Actually, it may have been Sarven himself, you both seem prone to prowling the halls at night, and since I have put him onto researching that tome of which we spoke..."   
  
Harry started and turned, but the staircase, still descending, had taken him out of earshot. After it had deposited him back in the hall, the gargoyle resumed its position and Harry was left standing outside Dumbledore's office, quite alone.   
  
Please, please, please review! 


	35. Chapter 35: In Battle

I do not own Harry Potter or his universe. These belong to J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own the story and my original characters, all of whom I am very fond of....  
  
...  
  
Chapter 35: In Battle   
  
        It was the last week of classes before the Holidays. The school seemed to be teeming with holiday cheer and a vast impatience for classes to end so they could once again see the families that they had left behind at the start of term. Harry was feeling no such anticipation. The approach of the holidays reminded him all too sharply of last Christmas. When he had heard a couple students singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' as they skipped down the hall he had to find a place to sit and collect himself for a few moments.  
  
        Harry shook his head, occasioning a questioning look from Ron as the two of them made their way out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures. He was looking forward to the class; and to the distractions that it offered.   
  
        They hadn't gone far when they heard someone else walking behind them. Ron turned his head to see who it was.  
  
        "Professor?" He asked.   
  
        "Good afternoon, Ronald." She replied cheerfully as she caught up to them. Harry spared a brief glance at her odd hat, which looked like an upside-down bowl with a short brim. As usual, wild tendrils of her hair had escaped the constriction and were curling every which way around the bottom. She was twirling what looked like a pair of goggles in her hand. "And you as well, Harry." She added. "How is your DA, lately?"  
  
        "Going splendidly, Professor." He replied with a little smile.  
  
        "Glad to hear this." She smiled back.   
  
        "So..." Ron asked hesitantly, "Going for a walk?"  
  
        Lanya chuckled. "In part. Professor Hagrid asked me to come down today...ah?" She looked ahead, "Listen."  
  
        They two boys fell silent, straining their ears to hear. What floated to them a moment later was the unmistakable sound of an angry horse, or perhaps more specifically, an angry Pegasus.  
  
        "Is that Tilt?" Ron asked.  
  
        "I guess so." Harry nodded, "Professor Lanya?" He looked to her but she had already trotted on ahead while they were listening.  
  
        Ron shrugged it off. "I wonder what Tilt's problem is."  
  
        "Could be that," Harry answered as they crested the rise above Hagrid's hut. Standing before it, and quite nearly as large, was another Pegasus. It stood there swishing its long black tail placidly, one hind leg cocked as it munched on a mouthful of hay. It looked quite unconcerned with the noises of challenge that Tilt, who was being restrained by Tainn a short distance away, was making. Hagrid stood at the head of the giant Pegasus, looking up at it rapturously.   
  
        "Hey you two!" He greeted Harry and Ron. "Where's Hermione?"  
  
        "She's coming along, Hagrid." Ron replied.   
  
        Tilt continued to scream challenges, dragging Tainn several feet along the ground as he attempted to lunge towards the huge Pegasus. It was easily three times his size.  
  
        "Whoa, easy there!" Tainn was calling at the shaggy little Pegasus. His attempts to soothe him were ineffective. Several others in the class filtered in, watching Tainn's battle with Tilt curiously.   
  
        "Lejtes!"  
  
        Tilt stopped, a shudder passing through his body. He turned his head, his ears tipped forward eagerly. Then he shrilled again, flapping his wings and freeing himself from Tainn's grasp.  
  
        Harry's eyes followed the pegasus's gaze and found that he was charging directly towards professor Lanya, who was standing some distance away, her arms folded across her chest. Tilt skidded to a stop directly in front of her, pushing his nose into her cloak. He looked positively delighted, his wings twitching out form his back.  
  
        "Lejtes." She said again. "You ridiculous little pony. You already know you're the most spectacular creature with two wings, hmm?" She laughed and cuddled his long face.   
  
        "Tilt belongs to Lanya?"  
  
        "Of course he does, Ron." Hermione replied from where she had come up behind them. "I looked it up, and 'lejtes' means 'tilt' in Hungarian. Plus, there are large herds of Monglians in the mountains of Hungary, where Professor Lanya is from..." She might have gone on with all the reasons that they should have realized that Tilt belonged to Lanya, but Hagrid had started class.  
  
        "Good mornin' class." He announced, beaming. "As ye can see, I have here an Abraxan fer studyin' today, but firs' I asked Professor Lanya here," He nodded his head towards the woman, who was now taming Tilt's mane into a long plait while he butted her shoulder with his nose. "To give us a demonstration of th' skills o' a trained Pegasus an' rider. Hope this'll settle the lad down a bit, as well." He added. "Are ye ready, Professor?"  
  
        "Yes," She called. She walked over, guiding Tilt with a hand on his neck. Tainn followed close behind, a look of admiration on his face. Tilt followed her meekly and stopped when she did, no longer paying any attention to the huge Pegasus now standing not ten feet away.  
  
        "I thank you for this opportunity." She said with a small bow in Hagrid's direction. "I am afraid I have been neglecting my Lejtes recently, but I have never seen his coat so shiny and his mane so free of tangles. Good work."  
  
        The students grinned at each other.  
  
        "Now," she continued, "I shall be brief." She removed her cloak and handed it to Hagrid. "This is a standard kit for Pegasus riding." She was clothed in a very thick wooly turtleneck, over which was a felt vest. Her wand hung on her hip, and she wore very snug breeches, tall dragon-hide boots and long gloves. "See the patches on the inside of the legs and the...rear..." She smiled slightly, "It is dragon suede, and gives very good grip on all surfaces. The gloves are the same material on the palm," She stripped one off and handed it around.   
  
        "The hat is for protection." She rapped her knuckles on the crown and it gave a solid thunking sound.   
  
        Harry, standing on the edge of the group, was the last to examine the glove, and he found it felt very pliable in his hand. He ran his own gloved fingers over the palm and found that there was a definite feel of resistance to it. He nodded, and stepped forward to give it back to Lanya. She took it back with a smile, and Harry glanced at her hand when she reached out.   
  
        The skin of her right hand was scored with what looked to be old burn scars. He saw them only for a second before she slipped her glove back on.   
  
        "Now then." She continued, oblivious to Harry's scrutiny. "I do not use harness, as I don't need it and my Lejtes doesn't like it." She took a hold on her pegasus's mane and swung herself lightly up onto Tilt's back, fitting her knees snugly behind his wing joints.   
  
        The Pegasus pranced a few steps, obviously eager. "Now then, I will show you a few maneuvers." She told them, sitting easily on his back. "Lejtes, go." She said softly.  
  
        The Pegasus gave another full-body shiver, unfurled his huge, sooty-gray wings, and leapt into the air. Lanya sat him with an enviable ease, not bothering to grab his mane or throw her arms around his neck for balance, as Harry remembered doing.   
  
        The Pegasus made a large circle, rising higher and higher, then folded his wings back with a snap and dove, Lanya leaning low over his neck. Just when Harry was sure they were going to crash directly into the crowd of students, all of whom seemed to share his opinion and were scattering, she sat up and Tilt pulled himself out of the dive, gliding over their heads.   
  
        Harry saw Lanya reach out and touch his neck, and the Pegasus executed a sharp right turn, then he came in low. "Hagrid, apple!" Lanya called out as they passed over.   
  
        Hagrid reached into a sack that had been sitting near his feet and pulled out a glossy green apple, which he hurled into the air.  
  
        Lanya and Tilt executed another neat turn and dove after it. Lanya snatched it out of the air before it had even begun its descending arc. Harry applauded, hearing the students around him doing the same.  
  
        Lanya reached out and fed the apple to Tilt. Then they banked and swept low again. "Hagrid, apple!" She called again. This time the hulking Gamekeeper pulled out an apple and held it above his head.   
  
        Harry heard Hermione gasp.   
  
        Lanya brought Tilt in very low, sweeping in a straight line towards Hagrid. As they came very close, she took a grip on his braided mane and leaned out almost impossibly far, her opposite leg almost coming completely over Tilt's back. They reached Hagrid just as Tilt's wings swept back and she snatched the apple out of Hagrid's hand.  
  
        The half-giant beamed broadly as woman and Pegasus took to the sky once more. Hagrid turned to Tainn and said, "Ready?" The man grinned, winked at the class, then took off running across the clearing.  
  
        "What's he doing?" Ron asked shrilly.  
  
        Lanya brought Tilt around again, and they dove after the running man. They pulled alongside. Tainn reached out his hand, and was pulled in one quick movement onto the Pegasus behind Lanya. Tilt didn't even change his pace as he ascended once again.  
  
        "Brilliant." Harry yelled, as they swept across for one more pass. Then they came into a landing, Tilt galloping along the ground before coming to a stop in the precise place from which they had started.  
  
        Tainn slid off; then bowed to Lanya, who nodded at him.  
  
        "Thank ye, Professor." Hagrid boomed.  
  
        "It was a pleasure, to be sure." She smiled. "Any questions?"  
  
        Hermione raised her hand, and Lanya smiled at her, "Hermione?"  
  
        "How does he manage that with his eye being like it is?" The girl asked.  
  
        "Good question." She replied. "If he had an inexperienced rider, he would not be able to do those maneuvers. It is up to me to make sure he keeps on the right path." Hermione nodded her head thoughtfully. "Anyone else?" Lanya asked.  
  
        "I have one," One of the Hufflepuffs spoke up. Lanya nodded at him. "Have you ever ridden him into battle?"  
  
        Lanya looked at him thoughtfully, "Twice, I have. Neither time was it in intention, and neither time did we exit unscathed." She flexed her right hand. Tilt flipped his head in what almost looked like agreement.  
  
        Lanya looked at Hagrid. " I will take him out for a ride," She told him with a smile. "Perhaps that will work out some of his high spirits."  
  
        "It'll be appreciated." Hagrid agreed, patting the head of the Abraxan, which had trotted over for some attention.  
  
        Lanya waved her hand, murmured something to her Pegasus, and the two took off, soaring towards the castle, then beyond.  
  
        "All righ', you lot!" Hagrid announced, and the students who had swiveled to watch Tilt and Lanya's progress jumped to attention. "Like I told ye, this is an Abraxan, borrowed 'im from a friend o' mine in France."  
  
        That Wednesday evening, Harry found his way blocked halfway up the stairs to Texi's apartment for his lesson. The obstruction was Texi herself, who smiled at him in fine spirits as she announced that the two of them were going to join Snape in the dungeons this week.  
  
        "Again?" Harry protested as she steered him around. "I had a lesson with him last week."  
  
        Texi patted his arm compassionately. "I know, and he knows...but the time has come to find out what exactly you've learned with the two of us helping."  
  
        "Dumbledore hasn't taken ANY of my lessons." Harry grumped.  
  
        "He's a busy wizard, as you know." Texi told him implacably. "We're pretty isolated here, but there has been a lot going on outside the walls of Hogwarts."  
  
        "Huh?"  
  
        "Don't you read the newspaper, Harry?"  
  
        "Not since last year." Harry shrugged. "Hermione is still getting it." He decided not to add that she was constantly trying to read things to him, but he tended not to listen.  
  
        "Well, the Ministry is still in relative turmoil, and Fudge's position is precarious. There seems to be little doubt that you'll get a new Minister soon."   
  
        Harry nodded, his eyes hard.  
  
        "Ron's father is getting a lot of support." She added offhandedly.  
  
        "Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked, his eyes wide. "That would be...fantastic."  
  
        "I thought as much." She agreed. "What else...?" She mused as they turned into the entrance to the dungeons. "There has been more activity with the death eaters, muggle targeting, and the muggles, poor things, are getting confused and very afraid."  
  
        "Deaths?"  
  
        "A few." She said sadly. "The dementors have vanished, and we're certain that they've joined up with Voldemort. The giants..." She shrugged. "The goblins are still wavering."  
  
        She turned to Harry as they reached the door to Snape's office. "I suggest, Harry, that you read the Daily Prophet when Hermione gets it. There is too much to tell you." She knocked, and the sound reverberated through the dank halls, "And be sure to read between the lines."  
  
        "Between...?" He started. But just then Snape's office door opened and she and Harry entered.  
  
        Texi pulled out her wand and touched it to her forehead. "Good evening, Professor."  
  
        Snape nodded, regarding her with his glittering black eyes. "I assume you have come to me for assistance."  
  
        Texi's eyebrow lifted. "Kind of." She said levelly. "The Headmaster felt that it might be good for us to try combining our lessons."  
  
        "I don't see how that would be of any assistance." Snape sneered. "Potter has all the mental receptivity of a block of wood."  
  
        Texi's eyebrow lifted further. "I have found him to be making much progress." She disagreed.  
  
        "In your opinion, perhaps." Snape told her dismissively.  
  
        Texi's eyes narrowed, and Harry recognized what may have been real anger smoldering in their emerald depths. "If this has been your attitude, Professor Snape, I would be surprised if you HAD made any more progress." She took a deep breath as Snape shot her what may have been a startled look. "As it is, Harry has been improving. And we need to build on that."  
  
        Snape squared his shoulders. "This much is true. Potter!"  
  
        "Yes, sir." Harry replied.  
  
        "Had any peculiar dreams lately?"  
  
        Harry's mind traveled back over the past week. A blonde woman, a book, an arch, voices murmuring and high pitched laughing. "None more peculiar than usual...sir."  
  
        "A guarded answer." Snape said smoothly, turning to his desk. "If you are ready, Potter, clear your mind." He turned back around, holding his wand. Harry hurriedly summoned his Receiver and poured all his emotions into it.   
  
        Beside him, Texi, still looking a bit put out, perched herself on one of the worktables.   
  
        "Legilimens!" Snape snarled.  
  
        Harry closed his eyes, feeling Snape's spell probing at the front of his head, seeking an opening, a weakness. He pulled up all his resolve and resolutely kept him out. The spell became more insistent, probing deeper and deeper.  
  
        Vague, blurred memories began to swim into his consciousness. He heard disjointed voices, some filled with laughter, some with fear, some with indifference. Harry decided that he wasn't going to hold out much longer when he got a rather clear vision; they had taken off from Mrs. Figg's house, he had looked back and... "Expelliarmus!" He shouted. He opened his eyes just in time to see Snape's wand fly from his grip.   
  
        He closed his eyes again, breathing hard, listening as Snape retrieved his wand. It hadn't been, had it? It couldn't have been...  
  
        "Marginally better, Potter." Snape said grudgingly. "But I still managed to break through your guard." He raised his wand, "Again."  
  
        They went through the same process three times, and by the end of the third Harry had spots swimming in front of his eyes, but he had still managed to keep Snape out completely.  
  
        Snape had no words of encouragement or praise aside from a grunt that could have meant anything.  
  
        "May I, professor?" Texi asked. She had apparently reigned in her temper during the intervening time.   
  
        Snape nodded, striding to his chair and sitting. He leaned back, tenting his hands before his mouth and looking like he was preparing to observe something darkly amusing. Texi shot him a glance. As she spoke, she left her wand at her forehead for Snape's benefit, as with Harry she didn't need it.   
  
        "Harry," she began, "I see you are using your Receiver. Now, for the moment I want you to let it go."  
  
        Harry acceded reluctantly, and the dog vanished as he let his emotions and memories flow back into his conscious mind. Texi stared into his eyes.   
  
        "Now, I want you to try to keep me out without using it."  
  
        "But..." He protested.  
  
        "Harry, I think you can do it." She said kindly. "Try."  
  
        Harry saw Snape looking at him, an amused sneer crossing his mouth. "Of course." He agreed stoutly, locking eyes with her again. Harry concentrated, bringing himself to a feeling of strict neutrality.   
  
        He felt her presence like a weight against the back of his eyes. He shoved against her, trying to visualize an invisible barrier around his mind. The pressure eased, and he felt her thoughts receding. Her face was locked into concentration, her eyes boring into his, but he kept that barrier up, denying her.   
  
        The dueled like that for over ten minutes. Every time she pushed her thoughts at his, he strengthened the barrier, moving the force of his mind in response to her probes. It was like a deadly serious staring contest.   
  
        Finally, Texi found a weak point and with a thought that had much the effect of a poniard stabbing through the gaps in a coat of chain mail she shattered his shield. Harry gasped as her thoughts and emotions flooded through his previously blank mind.   
  
        "You held up very well, Harry." Her voice sounded approvingly in his head. "And much longer than I had expected." Her thoughts were warm and comforting to him. "Now that I'm here, let's work on selective memory recall."  
  
        Harry nodded silently.  
  
        They moved to pull a couple of chair close together and sat down facing each other. Harry straddled his chair and leaned his arms across the back. Then they locked eyes again, and began the arduous process of shifting through their memories as Snape watched in silence.   
  
        Harry and Texi were laughing as they examined a memory of Genner begging Sarven to reverse the Truth-Speak hex, his nose so long that he had to support it with one hand, when something changed.  
  
        Harry felt their joined minds rock as if at a sudden invasion. His mind was suddenly filled with shouting and pain.  
  
        "PULL OUT, HARRY!" Texi's mind screamed at him. But it was happening too quickly.  
  
        "Report, status!" Texi was demanding. She stood so suddenly that her chair upset with a clatter, startling Professor Snape, who jumped up.  
  
        "Lion reporting, we need backup, Mother Bird! Backup!"   
  
        "Get Dumbledore!" Texi snapped at Snape, "We need agents to location 312! Immediately!"  
  
        Harry was astonished that Snape didn't argue, but instead rushed to the fireplace and tossed in a handful of floo powder. "Dumbledore's Office." He exclaimed, then he stepped in and vanished.   
  
        "Lion! Lion, report!" Texi demanded again, going for the fireplace herself and beckoning Harry to follow.   
  
        Very quickly they were in the Stepenwolv apartments. Harry stepped out a few moments after Texi, finding the room full of activity. Tainn was waiting to floo out, which he did almost before Harry's feet left the stones of the fireplace. Sarven came running down from upstairs. Texi glanced at him, and nodded. He ran for the fireplace as well.  
  
        "Lion! What is status of Scarecrow and Soda?"   
  
        "Soda is safe, under stone." The voice returned, hushed, panicky. "Scarecrow...he's still inside! But he was right behind me!" The voice rose. "It was a trap, Mother Bird! They were waiting for us!"  
  
        "Scarecrow, respond!" There was no answer from Scarecrow. Harry, get out!" Texi shouted at him. But he found he couldn't; whatever was happening had pinned him there, unable to escape.  
  
        "Aid to Location 312, who is available?" Texi demanded.  
  
        "Jester proceeding with all possible speed," came a different voice.  
  
        "Goldenboy responding!" Came another.  
  
        "Any and all aid to 312 immediately. Lion! Get out of there!" Texi shifted.  
  
        Harry watched her, horrified.  
  
        "I can't Mother Bird!" Came the terrified response. "He's my brother!"  
  
        "Lion, I repeat and command, GET OUT OF THERE!" Texi's face paled.   
  
        "I'm going back for him." The voice exclaimed.  
  
        "No, Lion, NO!" Texi called impotently. "ETA, respondents!"  
  
        "10 seconds, Jester was in unsafe area."  
  
        "Three minutes!" Came the other voice. "Coming as quick as we can, Mother Bird."   
  
        Then a change passed over Texi's face, and Harry felt his stomach flip over and seem to fold in upon itself. A sickening sensation passed through him, and Harry tried to contain the bile that rose in his throat. He collapsed backwards onto a couch, feeling his head reel as cold sweat broke out on his body.  
  
        "LION! It's too late, Scarecrow has been...compromised..." Texi finished in a wobbly voice. "Retreat, retreat NOW!"  
  
        "Noooo! My brother! No! Colum!"  
  
        "No! JESTER! GET THERE NOW!" Texi's voice was strident, grieving, horrified. "Lion! LION!"  
  
        Then the sickening sensation passed over Harry again, and he knew that it was too late for Lion as well.  
  
        It was only a few moments later that Jester announced her arrival at the scene. And she summed up what she saw. "Oh...Mother Bird...may they be at peace." Her voice cracked, and Harry felt her mourning.   
  
        Goldenboy responded soon after. "I've just arrived, Mother Bird, damage is extensive. One civilian casualty, you already know about Scarecrow and Lion."  
  
        "Soda?" Texi asked, and Harry felt her sink onto the couch beside him.  
  
        "Jester has located her."  
  
        "I've located Soda, Mother Bird. Only a few bruises." They heard the voice coaxing her, and comforting Soda. "Oh...his violin..." There were tears in the voice. "Mother Bird. Situation is in hand."  
  
        "Acknowledged."   
  
        It was only then that Harry was able to tear his mind away from Texi's.  
  
        He reeled back again, marveling that while he felt like hell warmed over, she sat pale and composed. She glanced up at him then looked back down at her hands.   
  
        "I didn't want you to experience that." She said quietly, and a few tears trickled down her face. "I didn't want you to know."  
  
        "What...was that?" Harry asked, badly shaken.  
  
        Texi fumbled at her neck, pulling out a stone wrapped in wire.  
  
        "I've seen one of those before. Tala has one."   
  
        "We all have one." She told him. "They're all connected. And this one is the master key. They visit occasionally to make sure the connection is still strong enough. We can contact each other, as you have seen. But as mine is the strongest..."  
  
        "You can feel them."  
  
        "Yes." Now the tears were rolling in earnest down her face. "I know if they still live, if they're hurt, if they..."  
  
        "Die." Harry finished for her.  
  
        There was a rush of green fire in the fireplace, and Tainn appeared. He saw Texi and Harry sitting on the couch and he took a few running steps, pulling Texi up and enveloping her in a comforting embrace.  
  
        "Sis." He murmured. "Oh, sis..." Tears began to run down his own contorted face.  
  
        Harry stood, trying not to attract their attention. He made his way over to the window and leaned against it, pressing his burning forehead to the glass.   
  
        Outside, the unconcerned stars burned on, and the world continued to spin as he felt the tears come. 


	36. Chapter 36: Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter Universe. These literary works belong to J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own the story and my original characters.  
  
Chapter 36: Beginning  
  
When Harry told his friends of the incident the next day, they were horrified.   
  
"You lived it?" Ron asked, his voice hushed, "When they...when they..." He gave up trying to finish the sentence.   
  
Harry took pity on him. "Yeah, I felt it when they died."  
  
"That's terrible!" Hermione said, her complexion as pale as milk. "What did it...feel like?" She asked with a certain tentative curiosity.  
  
"For a moment..." Harry said very quietly after a second's thought, shuddering, "I felt sick, then cold, then...empty...but it all happened really quickly and I came back to myself very fast."  
  
The three of them were sitting in the Gryffindor common room near the fire. Their sober faces and hunched postures as they whispered warned all the curious away. Harry would have welcomed Ginny, but she made no moves towards them, sitting at one of the tables and discussing a homework problem with Colin Creevy.  
  
"Do you know who it was?" Hermione asked as though dreading the answer.  
  
"I'm pretty sure Colum was Scarecrow..." Harry began. And Hermione gave a cry that she quickly stifled with her hand. "I don't know about the two that answered; they sounded like a man and a woman. But I'm guessing that Lion and Soda were Harvan and Dresca. We knew that the three of them were traveling together."  
  
"Yes, Colum told us..." Hermione trailed off, gulping several times. "...At Halloween." Ron reached over and took her hand. "I just can't believe it...they were so..."  
  
"Alive." Harry finished softly. The conversation ended.  
  
Right before they parted from Hermione, Harry pulled her aside. "Meow, I...would you tell Ginny? She needs to know, and she's not talking to me."  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
Harry shook his head tiredly, too wiped out to even become defensive. "Will you?"  
  
"I will, Harry." She sniffed, and produced a handkerchief from one of her pockets. "I'll...try, at least."  
  
Ron gave Harry a glance; then he looked at Hermione. He seemed to be fighting some interior battle.   
  
"Ron," Harry whispered, pausing as he walked past him, "I think you should stay with Hermione for a while."  
  
"What about you?" Ron whispered back.  
  
"I'm okay. She needs you." Harry replied. Ron's face turned red, but he nodded and caught up to Hermione just before she reached the stairs to the girl's dormitory.  
  
Harry didn't stay to watch, instead climbing the stairs and finding his bed with a grateful sigh.   
  
He didn't even consider trying to dream that night, and poured all his memories into the Receiver. Then, cuddling Durry close to his cheek, he fell into darkness. The voice of the young man about to die, the words of those who had arrived too late to save him, and Texi's desperate pleas had echoed in his mind through the whole time since he had first heard them, but when he poured all his thoughts into the Receiver they finally faded away. As he slept, his dreams were dark and quiet.  
  
The week ended and the Christmas Holidays began with a somewhat pleasing surprise for Harry. The morning everyone was to leave, he received a letter, his first in a long while.   
  
He was just finishing his breakfast, a somewhat small one as his appetite had been flagging lately, Hedwig fluttered out from the rafters and landed in his half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. With a disdainful hoot she hopped out, dropping a letter into Harry's lap. He stroked her head as she helped herself to the oatmeal she had landed in.   
  
The handwriting on the letter was easily recognizable as belonging to Remus, and he tore open the letter, not really knowing what to expect as to the contents.   
  
'Dear Harry,  
  
I apologize for the lateness of my letter, and hope that it arrives in time. If not, Texi or one of the others should be letting you know today...'   
  
"What's that, Harry?" Ron asked from across the table. He had been involved in a quidditch discussion with Seamus, concerning the prospects of Ireland in the World Cup that year.  
  
"It's from Remus." Harry told him, twitching the letter in his direction.  
  
Ron's face fell slightly, and Harry knew what he was thinking about. He watched his friend as he left off his conversation with Seamus, who didn't really mind as he had other people to argue with, and moved to the other side of the table.  
  
"Shove over, mate." He said to Harry as he took a seat on the bench next to him, and they read together.  
  
'It's been a bad week for us, as you already know, and I would like to talk to you about that.' The letter continued, and Harry gulped.   
  
'If you would like, I'm extending an invitation to you, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to join Tala and I for the Holidays this year. I daresay it will be quite a change for both of us. Let Tainn or Texi know, and they will be happy to escort you to the Knight Bus this evening.   
  
Happy Holidays,   
  
Remus and Tala.'  
  
"What do you say, Harry?" Ron asked. The four of them had signed on to stay for the Holidays, but Harry figured that Professor McGonagall wouldn't mind if they chose to go. They would be surrounded by members of the Order, after all.  
  
"It sounds good to me," Harry said, summoning up a grin, "It sounds great, really. Would you talk to Hermione and Ginny about it? I'll talk to Texi."  
  
Ron gave him a concerned look, which Harry thought really was unearned. But he nodded and went to find Hermione and his little sister.  
  
When he had gone, Harry carefully folded up the note and put it in his pocket, then he stood to go to the head table, which most of the teachers had abandoned in the quest to keep the students from tearing the place down in fits of holiday spirit. He sighed as he caught sight of a head of brilliant red hair among the throngs, but it vanished quickly.   
  
Texi was just standing up as Harry reached the table, and she nodded at him, then at the door leading out into the hall. He nodded in return and walked out. She appeared a moment later, and joined him where he was watching a first-year boy try to pry a Santa hat off of his head; the hat was putting up quite a battle. It was a humorous spectacle, but Harry found that neither of them were smiling as they watched.   
  
"So, Harry," Texi said, finally, catching his eye, "about Christmas...I was going to talk to you about it at our last lesson, but..."  
  
"It's alright." Harry replied. "It's understandable." There was an awkward silence. "Ron's talking to Ginny and Hermione now, but I would say it's pretty definite that we'll be accepting."   
  
That out of the way, they turned their discussion to the additional security measures that Remus had imposed upon his cottage and the grounds. Harry, having learned something about them in Defense Against the Dark arts, found the discussion fascinating.   
  
They were just talking about the process of rendering something Unplottable when Ron came up, looking out of breath. "They're game." He told them. He stared at Texi, and she looked uncomfortable.  
  
"You told your friends, of course." She commented to Harry.  
  
"Yes, they...had a right to know, I thought." He replied, a tad defiantly.  
  
"I understand perfectly. Thank you for taking the duty of explaining upon yourself." She nodded at him. "Ron, Harry, we will be going down to Hogsmeade at around six o'clock, and will be taking the Knight Bus at eight. We'll be met on the bus by some other Order members." She smiled faintly, "And I need to do some shopping."  
  
She gave them a wave goodbye and disappeared among the students filling the halls.  
  
Harry rummaged through his trunk, selecting out his least shabby muggle clothes and his traveling robes. He was rummaging in the bottom for his extra pair of gloves - he had mislaid his new ones somewhere - when his hand struck something sharp.  
  
"Ow!" He yelped, withdrawing the hand quickly, and finding a slice across the back, through the faded remnant of Umbridge's 'lessons', coincidentally. Harry wrapped an old pair of socks around his hand and carefully began removing more items, until at last he came to the shattered remnants of Sirius' two-way mirror.  
  
He couldn't say how long he had been hunched over the trunk for he found that he could not take his eyes off of the glittering fragments of glass, now stained with his blood. He had forgotten about it, again, and now with the sight there came back with full force the memory of when he had tried to use it. He was just about to throw a nasty old jumper that had belonged to Dudley on top of it, when he thought he caught a refracted glimmer of movement in one of the pieces.   
  
The jumper hung, a pile of woolen puce, in his hands as he froze. Could it have been? The flicker did not appear again, but Harry was sure that he had seen it. What he wasn't sure of; was what it was. His heart told him it was Sirius, his head told him that that could not be true. After some internal argument, the head won the discussion, and Harry went to throw the jumper in again.   
  
A flash of blue, a flash of gold, seemed to illuminate the inside of his trunk, throwing into sharp detail the interior, and the contents, some old candy wrappers, a quill he had forgotten about in his second year, and various other objects. But he had eyes only for the mirror.   
  
He took out his wand. "Reparo." He whispered. He wasn't sure if such a simple spell would work on a magical item, but he didn't know any better ones. Absently he made note of that, and so noted to look up some new spells on it for the DA.   
  
The mirror gleamed sullenly, but the pieces of glass slowly refitted themselves into the frame, and it made itself whole. Harry discarded the jumper, he decided he should throw it out anyways, and picked the mirror up carefully, unmindful of the fact that the blood from the cut had nearly soaked through the socks he had wrapped around it.   
  
"Who's there?" He asked. The mirror flashed to mirror brightness, then became cloudy and smoky gray. "Sirius!?" The grayness faded, and Harry found himself looking at someone who was very not Sirius.   
  
His first impression was of bright blue eyes and a veritable cloud of curly golden hair, his second was of the shock and surprise on the other person's face, the third was that he KNEW this woman.   
  
"Who are you?" He demanded, "Why do you have my godfather's mirror?"  
  
The woman just stared at him, her heart shaped face very pale. Dark smudges under her eyes bespoke of little sleep, little food, and much worrying. But she did not answer.  
  
"Who ARE you? Tell me!" He yelled.  
  
"You look just like him." She finally said in a light, sweet, though pain-filled voice, "Just like your father. But your eyes...those are Lily's eyes. It's like looking at her again. You don't remember me, of course."   
  
"You're not answering me," He said with a cold fury that quickly dissolved, "How do I know you REALLY knew them? I want your NAME! I want to know who YOU REALLY ARE!"  
  
She looked at him sadly, and said not a word more. The glass grew smoky again, and her face faded from his view. Finally, only his own reflection remained.  
  
"Come BACK, damn it!"   
  
"Harry?"  
  
"WHAT?" He snapped, looking around.  
  
Ron stood behind him, the sports bag that Remus had given him slung over his shoulder, and he had been watching his friend yell at his trunk with much concern. "Er...something wrong, mate?" He asked, hitching his winter cloak tighter around himself.  
  
"Everything. Everything's wrong." Harry told his friend bitterly, shoving the mirror and his extra set of gloves on top of the rest of the items in his own sports bag.  
  
He swung on his cloak and fastened it, avoiding Ron's confused eyes. "Ready?" He asked, picking up his own bag and scooping Durry up from the bed to place him on his shoulder.  
  
Harry noted with a rather helpless feeling that Ginny walked on the other side of Ron and Hermione as they made their way down to Hogsmeade village past McGonagall, who nodded at them.  
  
It was Hermione who noticed his hand. And her noticing made it sting terribly. They paused on the path, and she unwrapped the socks, wrinkling her nose at them. "Oh, Harry!" She gasped. "This looks terrible."  
  
Harry agreed that it did look worse now, but that may have been because of the bits of sock lint that were stuck in the congealing blood. He picked up a handful of snow from the drifts along the path and scrubbed at it while the others watched. Hermione looked at it closely, then rummaged in one of her pockets.  
  
"You carry a first aid kit around with you?" Ron asked incredulously when she located what she was seeking.  
  
"I was a Girl Guide in Primary school." She answered, not looking up from where she was swabbing at the back of Harry's hand with a bit of cotton. "Although we never had healing potion, which makes this a lot easier." She carefully uncorked a small blue bottle and used a glass dropper to let three drops fall on the cut on Harry's hand.   
  
They all watched, Harry noticed Ginny even came closer to observe, as the cut vanished as though it had never been there. Harry noted that even the words Umbridge had forced him to etch into the back of his hand had faded somewhat.  
  
"What's a Girl Guide?" Ron asked while Hermione was closing up the small kit and replacing it in her coat pocket. They walked on while Hermione explained the whole concept to their two wizard-raised friends.  
  
Harry watched Ginny as they walked, though he tried to appear not to do so. Her Christmas gift, along with the ones for Ron and Hermione, lay in the bottom of his bag. He figured maybe if she liked it, she would talk to him again. He had managed to convince Cord to remain in the castle for the duration of the holidays. The snake seemed to like it when Harry stressed the responsibility of observing the goings-on while he was away. So with Cord a safe distance away, perhaps he could close the distance that had emerged between himself and the red-headed girl.  
  
It wasn't long before they spied Tainn, Texi and Sarven standing at the end of the path. Texi and Sarven were huddled in thick cloaks, obviously not used to the cold weather, while Tainn, Harry noted with some shock and wonder, still stood barefoot in the snow.  
  
"Good morning, everyone." Texi said cheerfully. "We're all ready?" There were general statements of agreement, so Texi stepped to the snow-covered curb and raised her wand. It lit, even though she didn't say any spell they could hear. A few moments later, during which the four students backed up several feet, the Knight Bus shot into view with a bang.  
  
The conductor was still Stan Shunpike, though he had less spots, Harry noted, but when he stepped down his manner was entirely different. "Come on, then, we need to hurry." He said quickly, his eyes scanning the street.  
  
They all clambered on board, and he nearly shut the door on Tainn's heels, which made him jump forward about a foot forwards. He also hardly waited until they all were seated before saying, "Take 'er away, Ern."  
  
The bus took off with a bang, and Texi's chair fell over, dumping her onto Sarven's feet.   
  
"Had to wangle this close," Stan said, more like himself now that they were under way. "There's a lot o' travel this time o' year, and it's going to be trouble when we go back to the ones we skipped, ain't that right, Ern."  
  
Ern grunted in agreement, swinging the wheel to avoid a group of carolers. The chairs that Ginny and Hermione were sitting in skidded across the floor and slammed into Ron and Harry's knees, causing both the boys to howl in pain. Durry took flight and hung on one of the luggage racks, chittering angrily.  
  
"But Dumbledore asked us to make this stop 'specially, did'n' 'e Ern." He didn't even wait for Ern's answer as leaned forward conspiratorially. "Special Order business, 'e said it was." With a self-important smile, he looked at his watch. "Won' be long now."   
  
Finally he looked around, "Hello, there, Neville." He greeted Harry, who felt too ill to open his mouth so he just waved in response. Stan moved his gaze around the buses' passengers, but he couldn't seem to recall the names of any of the others. Harry guessed that he was only recognized as a consequence of their first meeting.   
  
Then, Stan noticed Sarven, upon whose lap Texi had taken up residence rather than chancing being toppled again. He stood up so quickly that he bumped Ern, and an entire strip of buildings in a business district curved to avoid them.   
  
"They're doing the wave," Texi noted lightly.  
  
Stan was pointing a shaking finger at Sarven, his mouth working but nothing emerging.   
  
"Yes?" Sarven asked with stressed politeness.  
  
"Y-y-y-y-you!"   
  
Sarven sighed and dropped his head onto Texi's shoulder. She patted his head in sympathy.  
  
"Y-y-y-y-you!"  
  
"I don't think I am who you think I am." Sarven turned a bleak blue gaze at Stan and he seemed to shrink away, bumping Ern again, and sending him careening off the road and into a partially frozen river with a great splash. In a moment the purple monstrosity had sunk to the bottom.  
  
Ern let out a string of curses that made Hermione gasp. Stan suddenly seemed to realize that they had stopped. "Ern?"   
  
Ern turned in his seat and fixed Stan with a stern gaze through his coke-bottle glasses. "We're in water."  
  
"We're in water?" Stan asked, goggle-eyed. "What do we do when we're in water?"  
  
"Get out, I assume." Sarven said bleakly as Texi and he stood. The dark young wizard walked to the front of the bus, performed a bubble-head charm, another that Harry couldn't make out, opened the door, and walked out.   
  
"Does he mean we have to walk...er...swim?" Ron asked, as he watched a fish swim by the window.  
  
"No." Tainn shrugged from where he was relaxing in one of the chairs. "He's going to get us out."  
  
"By himself? Shouldn't we help?" Ginny asked, and Harry found he had missed the sound of her voice.  
  
"He'll be fine." Tainn said with a yawn.  
  
Just then, something rocked the entire bus where it sat at the bottom of the river.  
  
"What in the bloody hell was that?" Ron shrilled.  
  
"Sarven." Tainn replied as they slowly emerged from the water. "He's quite exceptional at Charms."  
  
Harry looked out his window when it cleared the surface, and he saw a lone dark figure standing on the shore, his wand pointed at the bus. It seemed to Harry that he saw a line of white magical energy connecting the bus to the wand as it rolled along the surface, then came to a stop on the banks of the river.  
  
Stan and Ern got off immediately, and lifted the hood of the engine, muttering over what they found there. Harry noted that Stan gave Sarven a rather wild look as the young wizard climbed back aboard, dripping from head to toe. Tainn conjured up a towel and tossed it at him. The wizard got hit in the face with fluffy white terrycloth, and shot Tainn a venomous look while he stripped the water from his hair and robes. It streamed off in large quantities and Sarven was very quickly dry.  
  
Without a word he took his seat again and Texi plopped herself down on his lap, kissing the side of his forehead.  
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.  
  
"It was difficult." Sarven admitted, "But not unmanageable. I could have used help," He noted with another venomous look at Tainn, which the animagus ignored, "But all's well that ends well."  
  
Ern and Stan returned from their engine maintenance, and in a few short moments they were underway again.   
  
"So..." Stan asked tentatively, "Who ARE you if you're not who I think you are?"  
  
"I am Sarven of Stepenwolv." He said.  
  
"Did you know you look...?"  
  
"Don't. Say. It." Sarven enunciated very coldly, and Texi patted his hand while Stan looked frightened.  
  
Finally the bus screeched to a halt in front of Remus' cottage.  
  
"He-here's your stop." Stan said shakily, "Thank you for riding the Knight Bus." The moment they were off - Harry had to coax Durry down from the luggage rack - the bus took off again with a bang.  
  
Texi turned to Sarven as they walked the path up to the cottage, which sat warm and comfortable looking under its mantle of snow. "Are you sure that was wise?"  
  
"What was wise?" He asked.  
  
"Scaring him."  
  
"I didn't mean to..."  
  
"Uh-uh-uh..." She shook her finger at him. "Yes, you did."  
  
He shook his head. "I'm tired, love. I'm just tired." He took her hand in his own. "And you're right, I should've been nicer about it."   
  
"As long as you know I'm right." She agreed as they reached the door, she rapped on it once; then walked in.  
  
"Boots and cloaks in the entry, please!" Came a voice from the kitchen, and as they complied, Tala emerged, a dishtowel in her hands. "It's good to see you all." She smiled, though Harry thought her eyes were too bright.   
  
Her hugs were warm and natural, imparting a sense of comfort, and she held Texi a while longer than she did the others. Texi sagged against her aunt's shoulder Tala looked around at the rest of them. "We're glad to have you. Why don't you go into the sitting room and make yourself comfortable, we have a fire going, but you'll notice a lack of tree. We thought it would be nice to go pick one out tomorrow."  
  
"That sounds great, Aunt Tally." Tainn grinned at her as he ushered everyone except Sarven and Texi away.  
  
The sitting room was as comfortable as Harry remembered, the furniture warm and welcoming to their jolted bones. There was a phonograph playing soft music in one of the dim corners, and Harry found it all quite soothing and homey. He was just relaxing into the couch when he saw something that made all those good feelings vanish.  
  
There, on the sideboard, was Harvan's violin.  
  
...  
  
Please, please, please review. I 'd love to have all your support as I continue and finish this piece of fiction, particularly when I have to write things like what's happened in recent chapters. Because I really AM fond of my O.C.s and don't LIKE to do things like this to them....really.  
  
Much luv, Kyokki. 


	37. Chapter 37: The Night Before

I do not own Harry Potter. This world belongs to the notable J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own this story and my original characters.  
  
Chapter 37: The Night Before  
  
It had snowed again that night, which made for heavy going when they all trooped out in their quest for a tree. The sun shone glaringly in their eyes when they first stepped outside. Wrapped in heavy cloaks and with their breaths misting the air in front of their faces, they followed Remus into the forest surrounding his home. To make the time pass more quickly and enjoyably, Tainn and Sarven engaged each other in a word game. Harry wasn't entirely sure what the rules were aside from starting each sentence with the word that ended the one before.  
  
They tromped below the trees as they continued their little game.   
  
"Though fairies are attracted by light." Tainn was saying.  
  
"Light attracts many creatures, like moths to flame," Sarven continued.  
  
"Flame is harmless to those who know the spell."  
  
"Spell quintessence and tell me its meaning."  
  
"Meaning what with that odd word, I ask."  
  
"Ask not for answers when you may not like what I say."  
  
"Say, are those evergreens ahead?"  
  
"Ahead of you, or ahead of me?"  
  
"Me...methinks..."  
  
"Will you two cut it out?" Tala said wearily.  
  
"Out? Aunt Tally broke the circle!" Tainn crowed.  
  
"Circle breaking is punishable by snowballs." Sarven smiled. At his words several snowballs formed out of the drifts and pelted Tala about the shoulders.  
  
"Snowballs? Now it's on!" She yelled as more snowballs formed. They flew towards the two young men with negligible aim, and a snow fight ensued.   
  
Harry darted behind a tree to avoid friendly fire from both sides of the battle. He ducked to form his own snowballs then, with a whoop, leapt into the fray. Ginny had the most deadly aim, he noted, followed closely by Remus, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.  
  
When everyone was very wet, very cold, and covered from head to toe in snow, the fight ended with no clear victor. Remus, red-faced and chuckling, called their attention back to the task at hand, and they walked on towards the trees that Tainn had noted earlier.   
  
"Split up, but don't go far. Shoot up sparks if you see one that will do." Remus instructed them all. They separated, Harry finding himself with Ron and Tainn. He wandered along, looking at trees but not really knowing quite what he was looking for.   
  
"The prefect tree," Tainn told them as they trudged among the trees, "Is not too tall, nor too stout. It should be fairly uniform on all its sides. It should stand straight and have the perfect top to hold a star..." He looked around at all the surrounding trees - there were a lot of them - and grinned, "Shouldn't be too hard."  
  
"Couldn't we find an alright one and transfigure it to be perfect?" Ron asked.  
  
Tainn looked scandalized, "But what would be the fun in taking any old tree?"  
  
Harry thought that taking a tree and fixing it was probably what the Weasleys usually did for Christmas, as perfect trees were bound to be expensive. But he didn't comment.  
  
They found quite a few trees that Harry thought were quite nice, but Tainn rejected them all. That one was too short, that too thin, that too scruffy...Harry thought he was going a bit too far when he said that one resembled Harry's head too much.   
  
They were rescued when Ron caught the sight of green sparks above the treetops. Tainn looked disappointed, but aside from a comment of, "Careful of that bowtruckle," he wandered off on that direction, following Ron, who seemed eager to escape.   
  
Harry, confused, looked over his shoulder, and saw it watching him from a tree that he hadn't really noticed. The stick-like creature scampered up and lost itself among the branches. Now that he looked at it more closely he saw that the branches of this particular tree were almost unnaturally straight, the bark somehow richer than the trees surrounding it. He pondered it for a moment, but Ron's call of, "Hurry up, mate." Sent him floundering after his red-headed friend.  
  
He caught up to them just as they were entering the clearing from which the sparks emanated. The tree was, in Harry's opinion, really quite perfect. It stood in the middle of a clearing with quite a few saplings surrounding it.   
  
Tainn was circling the tree and nodding approval. Tala glanced at Remus, who had just arrived with Hermione in tow - knowing Hermione, Harry guessed that they had discussed something like ancient runes more than looking for trees - and he smiled in approval of their choice.  
  
"We stumbled across it, really." Ginny informed Remus, "Tala said she wanted to wait for you before using the severing charm on it, though."  
  
"That's fine. You needn't have waited." Remus told her.   
  
The tree was felled in short order, and Tainn and Sarven started the process of levitating it through the woods, followed by the girls. Harry started to trail after them but stopped when he realized that Remus wasn't following. He hesitated then quietly doubled back. Remus was kneeling in the snow where their tree had stood, his wand in hand.   
  
"Excavo" He murmured, pointing his wand at the ground, and a small hole appeared in the snow and earth, exposing a root. Harry came a bit nearer, and Remus looked up. "Harry, this might interest you." He said lightly, waving him closer. "I always do this when a tree is removed."   
  
Harry crouched beside his former professor as he cupped his hand over the exposed root and said a few words so low that Harry almost could not hear them. "Arborus florisa." He removed his hand and stepped back beside Harry. Where the root had been exposed there was now a tiny seedling, and as Harry and Remus watched it grew until it was nearly the same size as the other saplings in the clearing.  
  
Harry did indeed find it quite interesting, and he smiled back at Remus' expression. He realized with a start that he was now nearly as tall as his former professor, and wondered when that had happened.   
  
"Shall we go, Harry?" Remus asked.  
  
"Sure. What exactly did you do, anyways?" Harry replied as they followed the trampled trail through the snow that the others had made.  
  
"A growth charm." Remus replied, "These trees..." He gestured around him, "...bring me some income. Dumbledore purchases most of the Christmas trees for Hogwarts from me, and occasionally Ollivander wants some wand quality wood. It's not much, but..." He trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. He didn't need to be. Harry understood, just as he did with Ron, what it was like to not have much. Before he had discovered the vault in Gringotts that contained his inheritance, he had been in much the same situation.  
  
The two of them arrived at the cottage just as the others were contemplating the best way to get the tree inside and were sufficiently distracted from further conversation.  
  
Decorating the tree proved a diverting experience, it came close to toppling once or twice, eliciting hasty rescue measures on some of the glass ornaments. The ornaments, to Harry's eye, looked very old and he thought Aunt Petunia, who liked antique ornaments to the extent that she had banned Harry from the sitting room every Christmas since she could not trust him to walk by without shattering them, would give her eyeteeth to procure them. The sight of Tainn juggling them was strangely gratifying.  
  
Finally, all that was left was the star.  
  
"Youngest has the duty." Remus said over his shoulder as he bent over the box, carefully unwrapping it. He stood, holding the tree topper carefully in his hands. It was very pretty and delicate, with four crystal stars surrounding a central one, topped with a crescent moon. It seemed to pull all the light from the room into itself, and glowed as Remus presented it to the youngest in the room, "Ginny, if you would?"  
  
Ginny grinned, turning a bit red along her cheekbones, but she took it from him, holding it carefully. The she looked at the tree, which was too tall for her to easily reach the top.  
  
"Chair!" Tainn announced, floating one in from the kitchen. "My dear." He grinned, presenting it to her with a flourish.   
  
She climbed up and as the chair wobbled Harry grabbed the back to steady it. Then the star was in place and all the tiny crystals and cold-burning candles lit up, casting their twinkling light onto the room.   
  
Harry stared up at Ginny as she turned to climb down. Their eyes met and held for what seemed like forever to Harry's time sense. He tried to smile at her and managed somewhat, but no answering smile graced her face. If not for the intensive hold of her brown eyes he wouldn't have felt any hope. But he felt it, and knew he couldn't give up on them. The moment ended, and Harry carried the chair back to the kitchen.  
  
Much later Harry woke with a start and found that he had fallen asleep on the couch in the sitting room. He rubbed his hands through his hair and over his face, finding that someone had kindly removed his glasses for him. He reached out and found them on a small scuffed table. He supposed, as he put them on and sat up, that the combination of accumulated insomnia, soft music, warm fire, and quiet conversation had helped to send him to sleep.   
  
The last thing he remembered was turning down an invitation to string popcorn and settling down to watch as Ginny, Hermione and Texi created long ropes of it to drape on the trees outside; it was for the birds, Texi told him. Remus had been sitting in one of the beat-up old armchairs, Tala sitting on the floor and resting her head against his knee. Ron and Sarven had been hunched over a chessboard with mismatched pieces, Tainn giving them advice. But now he supposed that they had all gone to bed.  
  
Harry looked over to the fire and realized with a start that he was not the only one remaining in the room.   
  
Remus was still sitting in his battered and patched armchair, holding a goblet. As Harry watched he took up a poker and leaned forward to shift the smoldering logs in the fireplace, the sparks that rose illuminating the lines on his young face and the silver in his light brown hair. He replaced the poker and leaned back, looking into the fire with ruminative eyes. Then his gaze lifted to the pictures lining the mantelpiece.   
  
Harry leaned forward on the couch, trying to see. The pictures were all in shadow, but he got the impression that Remus had looked at them for so long that he knew what was in them even without seeing them. Harry made a quick decision and stood.   
  
Remus started and looked around. "Harry! I was just thinking about waking you. That sofa is only comfortable for so long."  
  
Harry looked at him, his brow furrowed, then walked to the mantle and picked up a picture containing four very young men, perhaps still in school. One was standing very upright and smiling at the camera. His black hair stuck up in all directions, and Harry knew he looked just like him. His eyes moved between the others, and Harry had the impression he was talking through his teeth.   
  
On one side of James was a quiet looking young man with light brown hair, his arms folded across his chest. Harry smiled as he watched the young Remus slowly and deliberately crossing his eyes, first the right, then the left then both together.  
  
Then Harry scowled as he looked at the young, round face of Wormtail, smiling almost sheepishly. He moved on quickly.  
  
On James' other side another black-haired young man was leaning in towards him, his hands reaching up and giving Harry's father antlers with his fingers. He was grinning in a roguish way, his black hair falling elegantly before his eyes. As Harry watched he tossed his head back and laughed. Harry could almost hear him; that bark of a laugh was something he missed horribly if he allowed himself to dwell on it.  
  
"You look happy." He said to Remus, who had watched silently as Harry perused the picture.   
  
"That was the first day of classes in seventh year." Remus told him quietly. "Lily took the picture; she said she wanted a good shot to put on the wanted posters." His smile was tinged with nostalgia.  
  
Harry smiled sadly as well. He wished he had known his mother; she seemed to have been a very good person. Harry replaced the picture on the mantle, looking over the rest. Other than a picture of Remus and Tala's wedding day, all the pictures seemed quite old. Harry was conscious of Remus' eyes on his back, and was just about to turn away when a flash of bright blue in one of the pictures in the back row caught his eye.  
  
As Harry reached towards it, he heard Remus make a sudden movement, and he hurriedly plucked the picture out before he could be stopped. It was a small photo, unframed. In it was a young Sirius, his arms wrapped around an equally young girl with clouds of curly golden hair. He nuzzled her ear and she laughed, pushing him away.  
  
Harry clutched the picture, turning to see Remus settling back into his chair, a defeated look flickering briefly across his face.  
  
"I know this woman," Harry said accusingly. "I've seen her before. I even TOLD you about her."  
  
"I know." Remus replied quietly.  
  
"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry said angrily. "If you knew..."  
  
Remus looked past him at the fire, apparently doing some quick thinking. "It wasn't so simple, Harry." He looked up and Harry could see the sadness in his eyes. "Have a seat if you really want to talk about this." He took his wand and levitated a chair over to face his. "I'll try to answer."  
  
Harry thought, sitting gingerly, "In the letter, the message they sent you," Remus briefly and unconsciously touched his hand to a point near his heart. "My d-dad said something about Sirius wanting to get married once."  
  
"Yes, yes he did." Remus admitted with some reluctance.  
  
"Will you tell me about her?"  
  
Remus leaned back in his chair, the light from the candles adorning the Christmas tree glittering in his eyes and catching the golden flecks within the hazel until he closed them briefly. Harry couldn't tell if it was merely to gather his thoughts, or for some other reason. He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair, then looked at Harry, his lined face grave.  
  
"Vega O'Connelly. That was her name." He said finally, his voice as grave as his face. "She was...one of those naturally beautiful people, her face, her spirit, her personality." He glanced at the picture in Harry's hand, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh, tenting his fingers over his thin stomach. "She was several years younger than us, a first year when we were in fourth." He half-smiled. "She was a tiny little thing, smaller even than young Colin Creevy. Sirius, for his own reasons, took her under his wing, becoming sort of her knight protector. That's what she called him, her Sir Knight. He called her Twinkle.  
  
"She was a half-blood - her father a muggle astronomer and her mother a wizarding one - which did not sit well with his family, and she had a single brother named Orion who also turned out to be a wizard." His eyes closed again, very briefly, then he looked straight at Harry, "These are not things that should be talked about during the Holiday."  
  
Harry shook his head stubbornly. "I want to know."  
  
"If you're certain." Remus told him warningly.  
  
"I am." He said, implacable.  
  
"It was our sixth year, and she was a third year," Harry nodded, "when it happened. We were all in the common room, blissfully unaware that anything was wrong, until Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came in." His voice shook before he could bring it under control. "It is difficult to describe the feelings that charged through the room at that moment. It was, after all during the time of Voldemort's rise to power."  
  
His head bowed, the silver streaks in his hair glinting in the candlelight. "They said they needed to talk to her. They, they didn't want to tell her in front of us. But she knew, she knew, and she tried to talk herself into believing that she really didn't, louder and louder, finally screaming it. She fainted into Padfoot's arms, and then they took her away. She was gone for over a week.  
  
"She was changed after that." He continued.  
  
"What...?" Harry was reluctant to finish the question but he felt he needed to say something. "He killed them."  
  
"Yes, his Death Eaters waited until Orion was home, then went in and killed him when he tried to protect his parents. He was a very good wizard, Harry, but..." He shook his head. "All three of them dead, the house destroyed."  
  
Harry suddenly felt a kinship to this woman who was no more than a shadow in his past. "Then what?"  
  
"Sirius was at her side whenever it was possible for those last years, but then we graduated, and she was on her own. She withdrew from everything, I hear, when Sirius wasn't there. Only he could bring her out, get her to show what a beautiful person she was." He cleared his throat softly. "The last time, as far as I know, they saw each other was at your parent's wedding. She was in her last years at Hogwarts, and they planned to marry when she left school."   
  
He fell silent for a few minutes, so long that Harry thought he had fallen back into old memories of happier times and couldn't be roused. Finally he sat up in his chair, his back tense. "You know what happened then."  
  
Harry nodded, he indeed knew, knew all too well. "What happened to her?"  
  
"She left the country. " He waved a general hand.   
  
"So she's gone?" Harry asked; feeling dejected for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. "But I thought..."  
  
Remus said, almost reluctantly. "I have seen her a couple of times, when she was in the area. She never stays in one place very long, I assume." He passed a hand across his face. "She happened to be here when, when it happened. I was the one who told her." Now Harry could see tears glittering in candlelit eyes, though the professor was staring at the tree, and Harry could only see him in profile. "It was one of the hardest things I have ever done."   
  
Harry was not sorry he had asked, but he was sorry for dredging up bad memories for Remus. He reached out and touched his professor's arm lightly. "Thank you for telling me, Remus. I think it was something I needed to know." He resisted the urge to continue with the fact that he should have been told sooner.  
  
"I'm glad, Harry." Remus replied, patting his hand. "It's difficult for me," He admitted, "Thinking of those times, when my friends were alive and happy, or generally happy. But I think it is good for me to remember so I can sometimes forget."   
  
Harry felt that the werewolf was opening himself up to him as he very rarely did, and to only a few. Harry suspected that Tala had seen this side of him often, but he no longer had his friends to confide in.   
  
Remus stood up, his knuckles white on the goblet he clutched in his hand. "I think I'll have some more eggnog before I go to bed, Harry, would you care for a cup?" Harry shook his head, standing as well.  
  
"I think I'll go get some sleep." Harry told him. Remus smiled his mild smile, before starting to turn away. "Remus?" He said suddenly. His former professor turned back, his face questioning.   
  
Harry didn't give it much thought, he just acted, stepping forward and giving his former professor and present friend a hug. He felt Remus stiffen for a second, before relaxing and enveloping him in his arms in a fatherly embrace. Then they parted, and Remus held Harry at arm's length.   
  
"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Remus said, his voice thick. "I wanted to when you were small enough to really hug, to pick up, and to teach you to fly a broom, and to watch you grow up more than the glimpses I caught of you. But I was, and am, and will likely continue to be a werewolf. I couldn't have cared for you, and would always have been afraid..." He released Harry, and turned away. "I wanted to take you in, Harry." He hesitated, "So did Vega. And I hope you don't hold it against us that we let Dumbledore convince us to leave you with the Dursleys."   
  
Harry saw shoulders tighten beneath his worn robes, and knew those words for completely true.   
  
"Sure you won't have some eggnog, Harry?"  
  
"No, thank you Remus." Harry replied, suddenly feeling shy. "Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight, Harry." Remus replied without turning around, his voice sounding strange before he walked into the kitchen.  
  
Please review. 


	38. Chapter 38: Yuletide

I do not own Harry Potter or his magical world. This instead belongs to one J.K. Rowling, to whom we owe unending accolades. All that I own are my original characters and the story.  
  
Chapter 38: Yuletide  
  
It was a white Christmas. It started out that way, and at about the middle of the night, the sky had clouded over again, obscuring the waning moon, and more snow fell. It snowed the entire night, which Harry knew all too well. He had been unable to sleep a wink, despite the comforting and warm presence of Durry at his cheek and the familiar sound of Ron sleeping in the other twin bed. Instead he stared out the window, watching to snow pile up in ever increasing drifts and the snowman they had built the morning before disappear beneath the soft new powder. And he thought.  
  
He knew that she was still in England. He couldn't quite explain how he knew this but it was one of those things that lodged irrevocably in his brain and would not be dislodged. Vega O'Connelly, who had loved Sirius, and who was the source of the strange task that Harry needed to finish for his godfather.  
  
Harry closed his eyes just as the sky lightened to a molten silver, and he had come to the conclusion that as much as he had wanted to, he couldn't do this alone. It was time to tell his friends. Everything.  
  
It seemed to have been no more than an instant when he heard feet stomping along the hall, and a voice announcing, "Christmas! Christmas, wake up all! Don't want to waste a minute!" Tainn's peculiar wake up call was not appreciated, he thought. Ron sat up blearily and looked at the door, obviously wishing Tainn would come in so he could silence him and get another few hours sleep. Harry, however, immediately rolled out of bed and got into his slippers and dressing gown.  
  
"Be right after you, mate." He heard Ron say tiredly as he went out the door. He glanced behind and saw his friend was once again enshrouded in his blankets. Well, Harry thought magnanimously, let those who could sleep, sleep, and those who could not...  
  
He closed the door softly and turned to go down the hall.  
  
"Harry, dear!" Harry started and focused on a figure moving towards him down the dim hall.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley?" He asked, astonished. The short red-haired woman bustled down the hall, having obviously just arrived, as she had not yet taken off her hat and heavy cloak.  
  
"Oh, it's been too long, Harry, dear." She exclaimed, giving him a warm, motherly embrace. Harry allowed himself to be enfolded in her arms, and, as had happened when she had embraced him after the night Cedric had been murdered, he felt his throat tighten and the backs of his eyes burn. He extricated himself very quickly before that warm hug could unmask him. Mrs. Weasley just smiled at him, though tremulously. "Well, then. Let me look at you. Oh my, you've grown several inches, look at that! You'll be catching up with Ron before you know it!"  
  
Harry frankly doubted that, he didn't think he was destined to be a tall man.  
  
"Is Ron still in bed?" She was asking.  
  
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, right through there." He pointed at the door to the room behind him and moved quickly downstairs before he could be cornered yet again. He heard Mrs. Weasley enter the room and begin the process of waking her youngest son, and then he heard footsteps.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny creeping carefully down the hall, and when she saw Harry, she did something that delighted him, she acknowledged him by putting her finger to her lips then pointing at the door through which her mother had vanished. Harry was all too happy to accede to her silent plea, and he continued down to the sitting room, where everyone else had apparently gathered.  
  
"Harry!" Arthur Weasley greeted him as he entered the kitchen. He strode up and clasped his shoulder, then looked him over with a critical eye. Harry wondered what he saw. He felt drawn and tired, and figured he looked it as well. "It's good to see you," Mr. Weasley continued.  
  
When Mr. Weasley smiled, Harry noticed that he looked extremely tired himself, and his receding red hair had a great deal more gray in it than before. Mr. Weasley patted his shoulder again before wandering off, leaving Harry to his own devices. The young man shrugged and walked into the sitting room, only to be confronted by a large ginger cat clasped joyfully in Hermione's arms.  
  
"Look Harry!" She crowed happily. "The Weasleys went to my mum and dad's on the way here, and mum finally gave up Crookshanks." She snuggled the ugly, bandy legged cat, and Harry heard a sound like crumpling paper. Hermione must have noticed as well, because she dragged out a letter from where it had been crushed between that cat and herself.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked.  
  
"Oh, I had almost forgotten, they sent me a letter, but I haven't had time to read it yet." She deposited Crookshanks in Harry's arms, much to the consternation of both boy and cat, and unfolded the paper.  
  
"The practice is doing well," She paraphrased while Harry juggled the ginger-furred armful, "And they were happy that I sent them some more tooth-flossing string mints." She read on silently for a moment, then her face paled, and she snapped the letter shut so quickly that the paper nearly tore. Harry gave her a curious look. "Nothing else really. Just some stuff about Crookshanks, and telling me to be careful and all that." She took Crookshanks back from Harry, and moved quickly to where everyone was gathering around the Christmas tree.  
  
Harry looked at her back suspiciously, then shrugged and followed. Probably family things, and none of his business. He looked at the pile of presents under the tree when he arrived, noting that the gifts he had left in his bag were now nestled among the gifts there. A certain sort of Christmas magic he guessed. He wasn't entirely sure how they had gotten there. The only gift he still had on him was the one for Ginny, as he had had it in the pocket of his pajamas the night before. He worked at it nervously with his fingers, trying to decide when he should give it to her.  
  
He was forestalled in his decision when Ron and Mrs. Weasley appeared. The plump, red-haired woman, who was showing more gray in her hair than Harry remembered, peered around, obviously looking for something.  
  
She found it. "Ginevra Molly Weasley!"  
  
Ginny gave a small squeak of alarm and looked for something to hide behind.  
  
"I received a letter from your school this morning! Is it true that you..." She really looked like she was broiling over with rage at this point. "That you...! You, Ginny Weasley, charmed a bucket to douse Professor Snape when he left his bedchamber?!"  
  
Ron snorted with laughter, though he quickly covered it with a cough to avoid bringing his mother's rage down upon his head.  
  
Ginny recovered her composure remarkably well. "And what makes him think it was me?"  
  
"A hair, Ginny Weasley, a long RED hair in the contents of the bucket. You just happen to be the ONLY student at Hogwarts with long red hair!" Ginny paled. Mrs. Weasley turned on Harry then, and he shrunk back. "He tried to convince me that you were involved as well, Harry, dear, but I know my daughter needed no assistance." She whirled back on Ginny. "Well? What have you to say for yourself?"  
  
"It...I...it's not like it did him any harm." Ginny hedged, wringing her hands.  
  
Harry stared at her. She really DID do it. He was somehow deeply impressed. "What was it?" he asked.  
  
Ginny said something very quickly under her breath.  
  
"What was that?" Tainn asked from where he had been watching quietly from the doorway.  
  
She took a deep breath, "Sleakeasy's Magical Oil be Gone Hair Serum -Extra Strength."  
  
Harry couldn't help it, he laughed until his sides hurt. Ron joined in a moment later Mrs. Weasley turned a baleful stare on him, but he thought he actually saw the sides of her mouth twitch up in a reluctant smile. The laugh proved infectious, even as Mrs. Weasley recovered herself enough to protest that they shouldn't encourage her daughter, and raining imprecations down on her twin troublemaker sons for being bad influences on her.  
  
When they were quite done, Tainn cleared his throat and announced that it was time to dig in.  
  
The next half-hour passed in a flurry of wrapping paper and ribbons. Harry watched his growing pile of presents in astonishment; he had never gotten so much for Christmas before, and was touched. Among other things was a book on Aurors from Ron, a Weasley sweater, forest green this year, a pair of fuzzy slippers from Hagrid that looked as though they had teeth. He approached those very carefully. He also received a strange sort of device from Hermione, a new product that Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was producing, called a Spell-Checker.  
  
Harry thought it rather tame by their standards until Hermione showed him how to work it. She wrote a simple potion mixture on a stray piece of wrapping paper, deliberately messing up the last ingredient. She then took the device, which looked somewhat like a computer mouse, and ran it over the writing.  
  
The device reacted instantly. "WRONG!" it said in a voice that sounded terribly familiar, then it went on calling out insults to the writer's intelligence while Hermione hurriedly erased the offending ingredient, and wrote in the proper one. She ran the device over it again, and it fell silent.  
  
It was quiet for a moment; then everyone burst out laughing. Harry shook his head, thanking Hermione, who was now looking a bit doubtful over her choice. He picked up the Spell-Checker, intending to set it aside, when he saw a note in the wrappings.  
  
'Happy Christmas, Harry,' it read, 'and enjoy our Spell-Checker, Snape version. Cheers, Fred and George.'  
  
Of course, Harry thought as he reached for another present.  
  
Harry finished unwrapping all his presents in short order, and turned his attention to everyone else. Remus' delight at the gift that he and his friends had made for him was apparent, and Harry was glad he had let Hermione bully him into learning him how to knit. He had only because Ginny and Ron learned as well, so that they could make the afghan for his former professor. Granted, his square looked a little lopsided, and Ron's moth-chewed, but all in all, he thought it came out well. Remus immediately tucked it around himself, beaming in a manner that Harry hadn't seen before.  
  
Harry felt a touch on his shoulder, and looked to see Texi standing behind him, a small wrapped object in her hand.  
  
"Here, Harry," She said, handing it to him. "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Happy Christmas, Texi." He replied, a little embarrassed, thought not quite sure why. Unwrapping it, he found a small stone on a chain, bound in thin wire. He recognized what it was instantly. He opened his mouth to protest, but Texi had already covered her hand with his and her lips moved, intoning a silent spell.  
  
"It's bound to both of us now, Harry." She told him, her voice quiet and grave. "I gave one to each of your friends as well. You may find it useful in the future, though I sincerely hope you will never have to use it."  
  
Harry, feeling very solemn, slipped the chain over his head and tucked it beneath his pajama shirt. It felt warm against his chest. "Thank you, Texi." He said, "I think I know what this means for you."  
  
"Yes," She agreed, "And that's why I decided to give you one." She squeezed his shoulder, and pecked his cheek with a quick kiss, then left him feeling very flustered.  
  
Harry looked up, and found Ginny's eyes upon him. He stood up quickly, stirring up his vaunted Gryffindor courage, and walked over to her. She looked away when he sat down beside her.  
  
"Ginny..." Anything he had planned to say at that moment deserted him, but he had expected that. That was why he had written the letter included in the gift to the red-haired girl that was so special to him. He gulped, pulled out the gift, shoved it into her hand, then fled into the kitchen.  
  
He tried to close his ears to the chorus of 'oohs' that seemed to float in through the door between the kitchen and the sitting room. But a moment later, Ginny practically flew through the door. Her hair, he noticed absently, glittered with gold among the red in the presence of the fairylights that someone had strung around the jamb to the kitchen, her brown eyes shone like the polished wood handle of his beloved broomstick, her face was flushed with excitement, and something else that he didn't quite recognize.  
  
In one hand glittered the tiny golden ship charm that had been in the small package that he had given her. In the other, was the note that he had written, crumpled a bit from being crushed in her palm.  
  
"Oh, Harry," She murmured, and he realized that she was now standing very, very close to him, her face titled up so she could stare into his eyes. "Thank you, thank you so much." Then the hand holding the note went around the back of his neck and he found himself pulled down into a very thorough kiss. He briefly wondered wherever she had learned to do THAT before all thoughts were wiped completely away.  
  
She looked adorable with her hair mussed, he found some time later when coherency had returned. She was nestled beside him on one of the sofas twirling the chain that held the tiny ship charm between her fingers. It was in all ways a perfect reproduction of a schooner, right down to the tiny spars and rigging. He had seen it in the little jeweler's shop in Hogsmeade, and had immediately known that there was nothing more perfect that he could give her.  
  
He smiled and cleared his throat, making Ginny turn and look at him, her eyes seeming a shade darker than normal and with an almost satisfied expression. He held out his hand. "May I?" And she reluctantly handed the glittering charm over. He winked. "Watch this."  
  
He held the charm over his left palm, and it turned on the chain, glittering in the lights from the Christmas tree. Then he lifted it until it was in front of his mouth, and blew.  
  
A delighted gasp escaped from Ginny's mouth as the golden sails billowed out, and the faint sounds of the sea filled the tiny space surrounding them. They could hear the snap of the sails, the cries of the gulls, even the slap of invisible waves against the hull. The ship no longer simply hung from the chain and glimmered, but floated above Harry's palm, rising and falling on invisible swells.  
  
Harry was understandably proud of this charm, as he had concocted it himself, and had tested it and fine-tuned it, even as the first tries were rather spectacular failures. "It wasn't too difficult a charm." He said, very modestly, he thought.  
  
She continued staring at it, then staring at him, and Harry basked in the warmth of that gaze.  
  
"Break it up, lovebirds." Came an amused voice, and they both pulled back, embarrassed. They looked up to find Tainn and Sarven standing behind the sofa, both looking at the charm in Harry's hand.  
  
"Could I see that?" Sarven asked, gesturing at the charm. Harry handed it over, and the two of them fell in over it in abject concentration, Tainn even taking out his wand and prodding it at one point.  
  
"Masterful!" He finally proclaimed, blowing on it once more to set the charm in motion before handing it back to Ginny. "Did one of your professors help you?" He asked Harry.  
  
Harry was indignant. "Of course not."  
  
"Hermione?" Sarven asked.  
  
"What's that?" The girl in question inquired from where she was feeding Ron bits of candy, much to the red-haired boy's enjoyment and embarrassment.  
  
"No." Harry said firmly. "I figured it out myself."  
  
The two men exchanged glances. "Well, then." Sarven nodded. "Well done. Really good."  
  
"Yep," Tainn added with a small grin, "As you folks would say, 'bloody brilliant'." His fingers made quote marks in the air. "Sarven?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Shall we wander off?"  
  
"Off your rocker, you are."  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"Serious as a hex."  
  
The two walked over to where Remus was examining various records, trying to decide which one to play next. Ginny went back to contemplating the necklace, while Harry picked up the book that Remus and Tala had given her, which now was forgotten on the sofa. 'Beating the Bludgers - A Study of Defensive Strategies in Quidditch' by Kennilworthy Whisp. He was so involved in it that he almost didn't notice when a few minutes later, several more people entered the room. He ignored them for a moment, too involved in reading the wincingly detailed account of a failed multiple bludger evasion.  
  
"Heya, Scar." Someone said softly.  
  
"Hi." He replied, looking up. "Hi, Tric, Genner." The looked really tired, he thought a moment later, tired and infinitely sad, as was to be expected.  
  
Though everyone was making an effort to make this a very cheerful holiday, now that he was watching he noticed various of the celebrators would pause for a moment, looking at nothing, sadness painting their eyes for a moment before they pulled themselves back into the holiday cheer with an effort.  
  
Harry glanced at the sideboard where he had seen Harvan's violin, but it was no longer there. Apparently either Remus or Tala, or maybe even one of the others, had realized what feelings the sight of that ill-fated instrument could afford.  
  
"All right?" He asked, fishing for some sort of conversation. He was aware of Ginny tensing slightly beside him, and he reached out and found her hand, squeezing it comfortingly.  
  
"Been better, hon." Tric said, summoning up a smile that had once come so easily to her face. "Looks like you've been having a good day, though." She nodded at their clasped hands.  
  
He raised his eyebrow, nodding his head towards her own hand, which was entwined with Genner's, and she smiled again, genuinely this time. "Well..." She shrugged.  
  
Harry hesitated. "How...is Dresca?"  
  
Both Tric and Genner's faces fell at the same moment, and they locked eyes with each other.  
  
"We..."Genner hesitated as well, "We thought you knew. We thought we heard your voice when we heard Texi's, but we weren't sure. Dresca is a well as can be expected."  
  
"Come on, love," Tric told him, breaking off the awkward moment, "We should say hello to everyone else." They nodded at Harry and Ginny, then joined Tala and Remus in front of the fire. Genner's arm moved to twine around Tric's shoulders in a protective gesture.  
  
Over the course of the evening various other members of the Order came and went, and Harry found himself reacquainting himself with all the people that he found he had missed. Tonks in particular was an entertaining distraction. She appeared at the door with a full white beard and rosy cheeks, sporting a jolly red Santa hat. It was she that instituted the idea of playing Christmas Charades, during which she cheated terribly, but always with such panache that everyone was laughing too hard to protest.  
  
Dinner came and went, with Harry noting with some amusement that every single person at the table was now sporting their very own Weasley sweater in varying colors. The meal was boisterous, and Harry had to remind himself to swallow before laughing at some of Tainn's jokes. Tonks and Tainn bounced off of each other splendidly, and showed the beginnings of a highly entertaining friendship. When he and Sarven introduced her to their word game, she joined in with fervor, and the three of them continued until well after everyone else was sick to death of it.  
  
Then the day came to an end, and everyone who was not staying at the Lupins' filtered out, most with sober expressions. Harry knew that for them this had been but a brief respite in the daily hazards of their mission to do all they could to stop the rise of Voldemort, and the return of dark times to the wizarding and the muggle worlds.  
  
Harry found himself thinking more and more of this when it became clear that Christmas was over, and everyone headed to their beds, toting their piles of presents along with them. He nodded to Ginny, who nodded back as she went to fetch Hermione.  
  
He had, among other things, told her in the note he had given her, that tonight he would tell them everything, everything that he could, and answer any questions they may have. The time had come.  
  
"Okay, guys, I'm going to get this out of the way, since I know we're all tired." Harry began when they were all gathered in his and Ron's room. He closed his eyes where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and began to recite the words that had been running through his head nearly constantly since he had first head them. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord has not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." He opened his eyes. "This prophecy was made...sixteen years ago."  
  
"Sixteen..."Ron started, as Hermione said, "Seventh month, that's July..." They both cut off and stared at Harry.  
  
"Harry, is it you? It's you, isn't it?" Ginny said in a small voice. "The one with the power to..."  
  
He nodded once, not looking at any of them. "Yes."  
  
Please, please, please Review! 


	39. Chapter 39: Small Tests

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If you do not know who actually owns Harry Potter by now you might be in the wrong place.

Chapter 39: Small Tests

Harry looked over the Room of Requirement, and at the slightly organized chaos contained within its changeable walls. It was now nearly February, and he at least felt that he was making progress with his club. Other endeavors hadn't been quite so successful.

He walked among the other students, complimenting and correcting, and occasionally throwing up a shielding spell when someone's attempts to hex their partner went haywire and scattered randomly across the room. At least it wasn't happening quite so often now as it had at the beginning of the year, when they had had to deal with an influx of the curious and the afraid.

More of the afraid remained than the curious, because they had more motivation.

Harry looked over at the far side of the room where Neville was practicing. The boy wasn't working with a partner, but rather with a target. This was not, as some who did not really know him would suspect, because he was so inordinately clumsy that he would hex any partner, or anyone in the general vicinity, into next week on accident –though Harry suspected that this figure of speech could become reality with Neville involved, at least at first.

No, Neville was working by himself because he had become so focused that it was dangerous to go at a practice bout with him. The last meeting, he and Gradley, who, though a Slytherin, or perhaps because of this, had fit himself rather well into the workings of the DA, had been partnered. This had ended with Gradley unconscious. Harry had thought for a moment that they would need to carry him up to the hospital wing. And this was with the use of a simple disarming hex.

If Harry didn't know him so well, he would be inclined to be fearful of the other boy's drive. But he knew the reasons for it, and so he understood completely. Nonetheless, he would not want to get on Neville's bad side, and even had reservations about partnering him himself.

The dummy target was looking rather the worse for wear.

"Good job, Neville." Harry congratulated him, as Neville fired off another shot that reduced the target to smoking cinders. Harry concentrated for a moment, and the room dutifully provided another one.

"Thanks, Harry." Neville said. And Harry was struck by something about his face. He was smiling, but his eyes were ice. He thought that if Neville and Bellatrix were to meet again, it would be a toss up as to who would be the winner.

Harry made a circle around the room and eventually ended up near Hermione, who was not taking part in the practice at the moment. Instead she was surrounded by a pile of books, and only some of them had anything to do with the DA. He picked one up and leafed through it idly, listening to her as she made thoughtful noises and scribbled something down in a notebook that she had spread open across her lap.

He closed his book again with a snap, and read the title with a sigh, 'A Treatise on the Properties of Death' by Mortimer Stone. As this book had been on a pile of discards, he could assume that she had found nothing helpful in its moldering yellow pages. He tossed it back and sat down next to the feverishly scribbling girl.

"Anything?" He asked quietly, his eyes scanning the room for signs that anything was getting out of hand.

Hermione looked up, her eyes wide and startled. "Oh! Harry, I didn't notice you there." There was a smudge of ink on her cheek and he could swear that her curly brown hair looked more frazzled than usual. She set her quill down and echoed his earlier sigh. "Remember when I said, a long time ago, that this would be like looking for a needle in a haystack?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I was wrong. This is worse."

He grimaced. "Hermione…"

"I'm not saying I don't think that there's something there, Harry. I'm just at a loss as to where it might be." She shuffled some parchments, trying to avoid looking at him. "And I still have no idea how this could be connected to the gypsies."

"That's what she said." Harry said with absolute conviction. "She said 'Sirius' and then she said 'gypsy'. I didn't mishear."

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "I just haven't found anything connecting the Romany way of life, to the Book of Karsis, not a single word. And all of the information about it is legend and supposition. I wish Sarven could remember what the title of that book he read was."

Harry stood up. Then he sagged against the bookshelves while Hermione looked at him with compassion. "Maybe…" He picked at one of the peeling bindings, "maybe it was a…name? Maybe she was talking about someone NAMED Gypsy."

"In which case it's even worse. How many people named Gypsy could there be in the world? The only one I remember offhand was a burlesque dancer sometime in…" She cut off, looking around at the room. "I…did it just get darker in here?"

Harry looked up sharply. "Something's…."

The darkness intensified, as the candles blew out one by one. A feel of clammy chill started to settle over the room, like the air inside of a crypt. Harry stepped away from the bookshelves, his wand at the ready every nerve tight and tingling. There was silence among all the other club members, and Harry noted that they, too, had their wands out. He made a circular movement with his hand, and they drifted towards the walls, their eyes shining and darting in the light of the Lumos spells a few had thought to intone.

"Harry." An urgent whisper sounded by his right ear. He glanced over and saw Ginny right beside him, her eyes not staying in one place for more than a few seconds. "What should we do?"

There was a bang and the door flew open.

Harry swung into action. "Stupify!" The spell shot at the door and encountered nothing. "Everyone find cover! We don't know what this is, but it's not right! And douse your wands, you don't want to be an easy target!" He moved as he spoke, so that any spells fired at the sound of his voice would hit where he had been rather than where he actually was.

Then there was complete darkness, broken only around the open doorway where a cold green light seeped in from the dim hall. He heard a voice whisper, and he closed his eyes. Just in time, for a blinding light issued from the hall, and he could hear startled shouts from others whose eyes had been open.

"Ginny," He whispered in the silences of his mind. He could feel her start. "Don't say anything, just move away from me. I'm going to try to get to the door." The shouting continued, and he hoped that they were remembering what they had learned.

He slid around the walls, keeping his wand in front of him, but never trained on just one spot.

He heard the voice whisper again, somewhere off to his left, in the heavier darkness caused by the wooden door shading the wall. He concentrated, "Lumos!" He shouted again, aiming where the shadow was thickest. Then he threw himself to the side and rolled, as a beam of light hit where he had been standing. Now if only the others had been paying attention…

The room lit up with criss-crossed spells, aimed at where the light had emerged. Some bounced off of a shield spell, as the intruder finally showed itself.

A long, black hooded robe, a flash of white beneath as it turned its head. A thin hand held its wand before it, as it moved out into the room.

"Death-eater…" Harry could hear breathed from a number of throats.

"Don't panic." He whispered fervently. "Don't let it make you panic." He aimed at the robed figure's back, "Stupify!" It didn't seem to notice as the spell passed through the robes with not even a shift to mark its passage. Harry froze for a moment. No one else seemed to have seen what he had.

He considered for a moment calling out to the others, but no, then that would alert the attacker that he was onto it.

In the room the air flashed with magical currents.

Suddenly he realized. It was still… He crept to the open doorway, keeping low against the wall, and reached out his hand until he felt it brush against something. He took a deep breath, brought his wand up, took a good handful, and pulled.

Everything stopped. The image of the Death-Eater vanished, and the candles began to light themselves one after the other.

Harry blinked several times in the sudden return of the light, and found himself looking up at Professor Lanya, his wand at her throat. The invisibility cloak dangled from his hand as he straightened, his wand still trained upon his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Why?" He asked, listening to everyone behind him starting to realize that it was over.

She smiled, ignoring the point of his wand still at her throat. "Because, Harry. I found you." She laughed then, as Harry let his wand drop slightly. "It was a very good job, you did, that it took me so long to discover this room." She looked down at him, her purple eyes piercing. "Don't you know you shouldn't point your wand at a teacher?"

"You attacked us!"

"And you passed that test."

Harry turned slightly and looked at the rest of the room. Everyone was slowly getting up from where they had found cover, with tentative smiles twitching across their faces. Hermione was standing by the bookshelves, a heavy tome in her hands. She looked as though she were fighting a case of the giggles, while Ron, who had somehow found his way to her side, was so pale that his freckles stood out like currants.

Neville was leaning over the table that held the Dark Detectors, breathing hoarsely, his arms supporting him and his entire body stiff as he tried to regain his composure. Ginny was, thankfully, where she should have been.

All around the room there were tables and chairs upturned and a few pillows were shredded. Cho and Roger Davies were collapsed in the middle of the floor, leaning back to back and back and staring up at the ceiling as though surprised that they were alive to see it. But all in all, everyone looked to have weathered the 'test' just fine.

Harry let out a deep breath and let his wand drop.

"Now." Professor Lanya said cheerily, rubbing her hands together, "Show me around this room." She looked around. "But where are the chamber pots?"

Some time later, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna, who had apparently been the only one to think clearly through the whole ordeal and therefore had not worried, were surveying the damage.

"I knew as soon as I saw it," She said airily, "That it couldn't have been real. Dumbledore would never let a Death Eater into the school. Now if it had been a Cwoled Wobbler, then I would have been worried."

"And what's that…whatever it was?" Ron asked dutifully.

"It's a creature seven feet tall with claws for hands, the head of a chicken…" Luna began.

"In other words," Hermione interrupted. "It doesn't exist."

"…And they tend to live in damp basements." Luna continued, ignoring her. Their relationship seemed to work best that way. If they talked to each other, things tended to get loud and heated. Often it was up to Ron to end the fight by dragging his girlfriend, gently of course, away.

Harry straightened a chair in a half-hearted manner. He knew that the house elves would be more than willing to clean the mess up themselves. But Hermione insisted. He sighed and moved over to where Ginny was re-filling the shelves with the books that Hermione had been perusing during the meeting. He knelt beside her and picked a few up, shoving them in amongst the other books randomly. On the other side of the room, Neville was picking up the cushions that had survived.

"Harry?" Ginny asked after a few minutes of re-filing.

"Hmm?"

"How did you do it?" She didn't look at him, and he didn't look at her. "When I heard you, inside my head…"

"I've gotten a lot better at it." He said quietly, "And because we're…especially close…it was easier."

"Texi taught you?"

He leaned back on his heels, staring at an invisible point some few inches beyond his nose. "No." He said slowly. "I never tried it with anyone other than her. I guess I just …picked it up."

"Picked it up?" Her voice was suffused with disbelief. "That's extremely powerful stuff to just pick up."

He turned to look at her. Then he held his finger to his lips. "Let's just keep it between us, okay?"

"Alright, Harry." Ginny agreed reluctantly, glancing guiltily to where Hermione was trying to pick up all the feathers from the disemboweled pillows. When she looked back he smiled at her, and he thought he saw a slight blush suffuse her cheeks as she smiled back.

"It's getting late," Ron finally announced when Hermione started slanting measuring looks at a couple of scorch marks on the wall. "And we had better get back to our dormitories. I'm sure Dobby won't mind finishing up." He told the curly-haired girl.

"Okay, then." Ginny said. "I'm going to walk Luna back to the Ravenclaw tower, then." Harry insisted that they travel in twos whenever possible. So as much as he would have liked to have walked with Ginny, all he could do was agree. A few minutes after the two girls left, Ron and Hermione made their way out. Harry checked his watch. In a few minutes he and Neville would go to the Gryffindor tower as well, though by a different route.

"Neville, are you ready?" Harry asked. Receiving no reply, he turned to see what was wrong. "Neville?" His eyes searched the room, until he found the boy sitting in a pile of pillows. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, all crunched in upon himself. Harry hurriedly walked over and crouched beside him. "Oy, Neville, are you all right, mate?"

Neville lifted his head, and Harry grew even more concerned at the tortured expression on his face. "Neville," Harry desperately wished that someone, like Hermione, would come back, he just wasn't good at this sort of thing. "Tell, me what's wrong."

"I almost…I felt like I could have killed her, Harry…" Neville said in a small voice. "Before the lights came back on…I saw her, and I thought, I thought for a second that she was…" Neville generally good-natured face screwed up and Harry could see that he was trying to get control of himself. The eyes that he had thought looked like ice before had melted.

"Her." Harry said gently.

"YES." Neville scraped his sleeve across his face. "I had my wand out and I could feel the words trying to come out, those words. And I had to fight not to say them…"

Harry sat back, thinking as he watched Neville pull his long ponytail over his shoulder and worry it in his hands. He looked as though he would pull it out if he weren't careful. Harry truly hadn't thought that Neville's new quasi-rebellious hairstyle would survive the Christmas holidays, and he had been very surprised to see it when they all returned. Neville hadn't said anything, but Harry had noticed a new confidence in him, perhaps because he had won out against his rather formidable grandmother.

"And you didn't, Neville." He finally said. "You didn't say those words."

Neville looked up at him. "But I could have."

"But you didn't." Harry repeated, "And that means that you have true strength." Harry swept his fingers through his fringe. "Let me tell you about something that happened that night at the ministry…"

Neville's mouth dropped open as Harry recounted what had happened between he and Bellatrix Lestrange after they had fled the Death Chamber.

"You used an unforgivable?" Neville said finally.

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off of those of the other boy. "And I thought I meant it. Because of what she did, to Sirius." He had never really spoken to Neville about Sirius before. "My godfather. So I think, I know how you feel, Neville."

"I think…I would have done the same thing…maybe." Neville trailed off. "When I saw it was p-professor Lanya, and I thought about what I almost did..." He turned his face away, and Harry stood up and turned away so Neville wouldn't think he was watching him cry.

"It's alright, Neville." He said to the window. "Take your time, and we'll go back when you're ready."

"Okay…" Neville sniffed noisily. "Thanks, Harry."

It was almost midnight when they finally made their way back to the dormitory, both huddled under Harry's cloak and both alert for any signs of those who usually roamed the halls that late at night. Mrs. Norris, Filch and Snape all came easily to mind. And they certainly did not want to run into any of them.

They were just crossing the corridor near the Transfiguration classroom when Harry heard someone coming down the hallway at them. He immediately led Neville back towards a suit of armor that perched against the wall and peered out to see who it could be.

It was Professor Dumbledore, whom Harry had not seen in quite some time. He was moving with an uncharacteristic haste through the dark hall towards McGonagall's classroom. As he swept past Harry saw a more shadowy figure trailing in his wake. At first he thought it was Snape, but knew a second later that it was Sarven. He didn't sweep quite so grandly as his father did. Neither seemed to see him and Neville as they pushed open the door to McGonagall's office and swept in.

"We really should be getting to bed, Harry." Neville nervously tugged at his sleeve. But stopping Harry when his curiosity had been peaked was like trying to stop a rampaging hippogriff. And Neville was pulled along with him as he tiptoed to the door and put his ear against the crack.

"It's happened again, Headmaster…" Came a pale-sounding voice.

"She had just come in for some tea…neither of us could sleep," He recognized McGonagall's strong tones. "And we were having some ginger newts when she just…" She trailed off. "Well, you can see."

"Larissa," Harry heard Dumbledore say. "How do you feel?"

"I feel, Headmaster…"

"Please, call me Albus."

"I feel like I'm…not all…here…Albus." The pale voice belonged to Lanya. But how could she sound so completely different from how she usually did. And they had just seen her a few hours ago.

Harry heard some whispers and he strained to make sense of them. He wished he dared to take a peek, but Neville's fingers were clutching at the sleeve of his robe, and he wouldn't put it past the other boy to make a run for it at any moment. He held up two fingers in front of Neville's bulging eyes, mouthing 'two minutes', and the boy subsided, though he still kept a death-grip on Harry's sleeve

"Is it what we feared, then, Larissa?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"It may be, Albus. But I don't think…that Voldemort has it." He voice grew a little stronger as she talked, as though she were coming back to herself.

"Why do you say that, Miss Lanya?" Sarven spoke.

"Because…I don't think…he would hesitate." Lanya replied. "To use it…"

"In 'Tides of Life and Death'," Sarven said suddenly, as though to himself, "the author spoke of something called a 'Surety'. Is this what he meant? This sort of…"

"Yes, Sarven." Dumbledore interrupted him. "But very few people know about that clause." He seemed to trail off into thought, "But someone does know… Who?"

"I wish I could tell you, Albus." Lanya said tiredly, "I truly wish that I knew."

"As do I, Larissa." Dumbledore told her gently. "Minerva, would you help Larissa to her bedchamber. I do believe she could do with some rest."

"Certainly, Albus."

Neville's hands fastened around Harry's arm, as the boy forcibly pulled him around and propelled him down the hallway towards their tower.

Harry glanced back once, just before they went around the corner, and he saw Professor McGonagall's thin form helping someone else out the door. It must have been Lanya, but something was off about her. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Later, Harry lay on his bed, his head supported on his intertwined fingers as he stared up at the draperies above him. Beside his ear Durry purred in untroubled dreams. Harry wished that he could drop off as easily as Neville, who had collapsed fully clothed upon his own bed and began to snore immediately. Harry had helpfully taken off his shoes.

Sarven hadn't forgotten the name of the book, he thought angrily. He had been keeping it from him. Well, now he knew. And tomorrow at breakfast he would give the title of the book to Hermione, who would know what to do with it. It was unfortunate that Sarven hadn't provided the author's name as well, though.

Harry rolled over and fluffed his pillow up around his ears. As he was on the verge of finally dropping off to sleep, it came to him what had been strange about Lanya. He knew that she had very dark-red hair. He had seen her earlier that night, and there had been nothing different about it. But in the hall outside McGonagall's office…

There was an old chair in the common room by the window. He knew that it had once been a bright red, as he had had occasion to search for Hermione's revealer under it one afternoon. Now it was more of a dull rose…almost exactly the same color Professor Lanya's hair had been as she and McGonagall had moved through the light in the doorway.

Acknowledgements: Thanks to my pre-readers Peorth and RuroniKen-ouki for their comments and suggestions. And thanks to Rob who finally got me to actually break down my writer's block and WRITE. Also to Chaos and Confusion. You know who you are. …Did that make sense?

Feedback is always appreciated and sorry for the huge time lapse between chapters.


End file.
